


Mission Objective

by Reiven



Category: Chicago Fire, Chicago Med, Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Gen, Hailey Upton Friendly Fic, Halstead Family Feels, Hurt Jay Halstead, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Intubation, Jay Halstead Whump, Med Whump, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2020-11-26 19:38:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20935640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiven/pseuds/Reiven
Summary: A seemingly random series of attacks in Chicago targeting men and women of various ages, races and backgrounds ends with one of Intelligence’s own fighting for his life. His co-workers and friends; his family, are forced to confront the fact that one of them might not walk away unscathed this time around – if he manages to walk away at all.





	1. The Case

**Author's Note:**

>   


They had three victims from three completely different backgrounds; three different ethnicities, age and gender and no matter how deep they dug through the trash the only thing they could find linking the victims to each other was the M.O and the fact that at the end of the day it just seemed to be a completely random series of attacks perpetrated by the same person for absolutely no reason.

“All victims were stabbed twice, once in the flank and once in the side. We believe he came up from behind and surprised them; the first stab wasn’t meant to kill, only to incapacitate. They also had bruising around the neck to support that theory. The second was to keep them down. Two of the three victim suffered multiple broken bones, bruises and contusions and internal damage from a beating but all three died as a result of severe blood loss. Whoever this guy is and whatever he wants from them, this guy has got some serious beef with these people.” Antonio finished his assessment and returned back to sit perched on the side of his desk.

“The only thing in common in these cases are the M.O’s,” Jay started, “The victims have nothing in common that we can find that links them to one another. Yvonne Miller: thirty-seven, mother of two. No priors, no record, nothing to indicate that she was anything other than a squeaky clean mom who does carpool on the weekdays. Hubert Harris _the Third_, fifty-three,” Jay placed special emphasis on the title, “Drill Sergeant in the army for over twenty years, no criminal record, no priors, not even a parking ticket. The fact that he went through life, much less the _army_ and up to the rank of Drill Sergeant with the name _Hubert Harris the Third_ meant that this was definitely not a guy to be messed with. And Javier Herrera, twenty-seven. Just got back from two tours overseas, spotless record on all fronts and an absolutely stand-up guy from what we gathered from the people who knew him. Had no beef with anyone. He was attacked in the alley behind his house; DOA. No witnesses in any of these cases.”

“Well the fact that their faces are pinned up on that board and their bodies lying cold in the morgue meant that they definitely had beef with someone, and I want to know who, where and why,” ordered Voight, his gravelly voice almost rumbling through the walls of the bullpen of the Intelligence headquarters of the CPD. “And I needed that information five minutes ago.”

A chorus of ‘_yes, Serge_’s rang up as everyone dispersed to return to their own desks.

It was a case they’d been working on ever since the discovery of the first victim, Yvonne Miller, a widowed single mother, in her apartment by her landlord almost three weeks ago. She died as a result of shock from the blood loss at the hospital later that day. The second victim died on the way to the hospital and the third was dead before the first unit was even the scene and neither CPD nor the Intelligence Unit was any close to identifying the killer. The best lead they had was a next door neighbour of the second victim hearing the sound of a male voice yelling what, according to him, sounded like Arabic, in the apartment the evening before the victim’s body was found. They’d found nothing to indicate that it was a racially motivated crime however. And there were no cameras at any of the exits or on the street and no one saw anyone coming or leaving the crime scene at any point before or after the attack, so they found themselves up against a brick wall in regards to that lead.

Essentially, they had bupkis.

So getting the call that another victim had been found beaten in his apartment later that morning did nothing to ease the tweaked up nerves of everyone working the case, only the fact that he was still alive and was on route to Med kept most of them from wanting to punch a wall.

“Troy Hargreaves,” said Will Halstead who was waiting for their arrival at the entrance of the hospital, starting his assessment without waiting for the go ahead, “Thirty-two; stabbed once in the lumbar area and once in the lower right abdomen, multiple contusions to the torso, broken ribs, ruptured spleen. He’s up in surgery as we speak. His injuries look severe but I’m optimistic about his chances. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that this definitely fits the same pattern as the other victims.”

Voight scrubbed his face with his hand almost like a nervous habit, but anyone who knew him knew that Voight didn’t get nervous. Most likely it was out of frustration and anger. They weren’t any closer to catching the guy and from what little they could deduce, it didn’t seem like he was likely to stop until he got whatever it was he wanted or _who_ever it was he wanted.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of sitting around with my thumb up my ass watching this guy get one up on us _again_,” said Voight, the frustration obvious on his face, not acknowledging Olinsky coming up behind him and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

“It’s late, we’re all fired up from this asshole giving us the run around. I’ll wait for the vic to come out of surgery and update you on what I can get from him, the rest of you – go home, rest up and come back fresh faced in the morning,” said Olinsky, “Well, as fresh faced as you ugly lot can get,” he added with a wisp of a smile; his voice soft and his characteristic as of calmness extending to the rest of the team.

“Al’s right,” said Voight after a beat, exhaling tiredly. “Go home.”

“You sure, boss?” Ruzek asked, looking around at the rest of the group. It was obvious that the offer was the most tempting to him though all of them looked equally dead on their feet after almost going almost forty-eight hours without sleep trying to find the perp before he struck again only to have found themselves left in the bloodied dust trail once again.

“You gonna make me say it twice?” asked Voight with a stern look in Ruzek’s direction.

“No, boss,” said Ruzek immediately, arms raised in front of him.

“Then get the hell out of here.”

None of them struck around to be told a third time.

“I swear to god I’m gonna put two bullets right in the middle his face when we catch this bastard and then go home and sleep like a baby,” said Ruzek as he and the rest of the team made their way down the hospital corridor towards the exit.

Usually it’s be one of them – Ruzek, Kim or Atwater tasked to stay behind because they were the newer members, but Al had insisted and none of them really wanted to be alone with Voight in a closed space while he was in that particular mood.

“I definitely second the suggestion,” said Kim a little too heartily.

“Get in line,” said Hailey. The threat would have come across a lot more menacing had she not been in the middle of a yawn; her arms stretched high above her head like a cat.

“Well I for one would be happy if we managed to even catch the guy and put a stop to all this,” said Atwater. “That’d do my sleep a world of good already.”

Jay had many things to add to the conversation but the strength to say none of them. He was tired, physically and mentally so he just opted for an amused chuckle from where he was walking just a few steps behind the rest of the team

“How about a drink at Molly’s before we turn in?” suggested Ruzek once conversation had begun tapering off. “God knows we could all use a stiff one– or five.”

Atwater was immediately down for the plan though Hailey and Kim both seemed equally undecided.

Jay however wasn’t in the mood for the drink or the company. He was too wired from the lack of sleep and too much caffeine and quite frankly too pissed to be good company. Something about the case, especially the fact that two of the victims were Vets, just struck a chord in him. He always felt a strange sort of camaraderie, whether they were the victims or the perps, when it came to people who’d served. He imagined the victims being someone he knew, someone he served with – a brother. At the same time, the person who’d committed the crime could have just as easily been someone he knew or someone he served with.

Hell, it could have just as easily been him.

If it hadn’t been for Mouse being there for him – if there hadn’t been the thought in the back of his mind when he was at his lowest that he was just as much Mouse’s crutch as he was his; if it hadn’t been for the police force giving him an outlet to channel his silent rage and his trauma and anxiety, he could have just as easily turned out to be one of the people he put away.

Sure he had Will and maybe his dad to some extent, but they didn’t understand. They _couldn’t_ understand. They weren’t there. They didn’t experience what he experienced. They didn’t see what he saw. They didn’t feel what he felt: the fear and helplessness and shame. 

And they definitely couldn’t deal with it – deal with him, the way Mouse had been able to – by just being there, but just understanding without having to be explained; by knowing without having to be told.

Will had the natural instinct to want to fix everything; to find a source of the ailment and apply a treatment and a cure – that’s what made him such a good doctor.

But Jay didn’t need a doctor, he needed a brother and that was something Will was unable to be to him at the time. Their relationship had improved much since then, but still when situations like this arose, the absence of Mouse felt so much more apparent.

Jay knew he wasn’t going to be such good company – he could already feel like anxiety levels getting progressively higher the longer he remained in the vicinity of the hospital. Hospitals all smelled the same and had the same kind of aura pulsating off it. It didn’t matter if it was on home soil or in some run down building in another third world country – it always smelled the same and at that point Jay just wanted to be home.

“Nah, guys,” said Jay. “I think I’m gonna turn in early.”

“You sure, Jay?” asked Ruzek. “You’re gonna miss out. Atwater’s paying. This phenomenon only happens once in a blue moon,” he said with a mischievous grin. “Pigs might even fly!”

Atwater scoffed. “Yeah, Jay. I’ll be doing the paying with money from Ruzek’s pocket. You won’t want to miss the spectacle. I don’t think anyone but flies have ever seen the inside of his raggedy ass wallet.”

“I’ll have you know, Atwater, that I was voted ‘most generous’ by the whole sophomore girls swim team for two years in a row.”

“Yeah,” said Atwater, completely deadpan. “I’m sure teenage you was definitely generous with _something_.”

“Hey!” objected Ruzek, mock offended.

“Anyway,” said Jay, cutting into the conversation, “Based on this conversation alone I’m sure it’s gonna be a hoot and a half, but I think I’ll pass, You guys have fun though,” he said, which in Jay-speak meant that the conversation was done.

The girls had opted to join in for ‘just one drink’ which was usually code for ‘more than one drink’, but once Jay decided on a course of action, it was very hard to change his mind.

“You’re seriously no fun, Halstead,” said Ruzek teasingly at his retreating back.

“I’m loads of fun,” said Jay from over his shoulder, “Just with better company than you.”

Ruzek’s response was a hearty laugh topped off with a middle finger salute but Jay had already stepped around the corner and out of sight and didn’t see. He felt no need to turn back for a second look at his team; he’d see their ugly mugs in the morning anyway.

He took a detour to find Will on his way out – which was ironically easier in theory than in reality, especially considering it was his brother’s place of work – to take a rain check on their bi-annual game night get together. They hadn’t had one in a while, what with the influx of work on both their parts, and despite their insistence on not cancelling this time no matter what, Jay really just wasn’t in the mood or the headspace to want to be around anyone.

Jay wondered whether they should just cancel it all together because making plans was never something that aligned with their day jobs.

Fortunately Will wasn’t too disappointed by the cancellation, mainly because he’d been on the same train of through, only slightly more hesitant about it. He’d just come off a double shift and like Jay was planning on spending the night in the company of his own bed, which was a completely acceptable reason in Jay’s book.

They shared a hug and a casual insult before Jay finally stepped out of the hospital, into his truck and drove out of the parking lot with a roar of the exhaust.

Nothing else of importance happened the rest of the day.

** _tbc._ **


	2. The Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is not set at any specific canon season of either show. Kidd is around, Gabby’s around, Casey is still lieutenant; Al’s still alive… etc. Anyway, this is the chapter when shit goes down and as you will see I tried to do it in a canon type crossover which hopefully it comes across okay. So… carry on.

Fire fighting was an art form. Every fire fighter thought the same – a beautiful, dangerous and deadly art form but a work of pure art nonetheless. Fire-fighters who managed to walk away at the end of the day were equal parts skilled and lucky, and most days no one knew where one part ended and the other began.

So getting a good start to the day was always a welcome reprieve and to the members of Firehouse 51, the day couldn’t have started out more perfect if it tried.

That usually meant that shit would inevitably end up hitting the giant proverbial fan by the end of the shift.

At least that’s what Herrmann kept preaching to anyone who’d listen (which meant that he ended up preaching to himself for most of the morning).

“Seriously, if you keep saying something bad is going to happen, then something bad is definitely going to happen. So… like, stop saying it!” Otis said, placing his newspaper down on the table a little too vehemently to make his point.

“It’s not in Herrmann’s nature to _not_ be a pacifist and _not_ shoving it in everyone’s faces,” said Mouch unhelpfully from his position on the couch, not even looking up from the section of the paper he was reading.

“I’m serious, guys. I woke up this morning with this – feeling inside my gut like… like something’s not right with the universe–”

“Are you sure it’s not just gas?” interrupted Cruz.

Herrmann didn’t acknowledge that the other guy had even spoken, continuing without pause. “You know I’m old school, I don’t like jinxing stuff like this but… I don’t know guys, today just feels… wrong.”

“I told you guys that stuff about Mercury being in retrograde right?” said Kidd. “There was this weird kid in my school that used to say, ‘When Mercury is in retrograde, do not drink Gatorade’ – did you drink Gatorade today by chance Hermann? That could be the reason.” The absolute seriousness in Kidd’s expression did not help Hermann’s annoyance one bit.

“Kidd makes a very good point,” said Otis.

“A very good point,” parroted Cruz and with more enthusiasm.

“You sure it’s not the tacos the lady with the cat gave us yesterday?” asked Mouch. “I told you guys they tasted funny.”

Hermann was practically bristling by the time the laughter died down. “It wasn’t the damn tacos and it definitely wasn’t that Mercury retrograde bullshit!” But his denial was to no avail, he’d completely lost the attention of the room by that point.

The chattering and the laughter didn’t last long once the alarm sounded and the operator’s voice rang out calling for Truck 81 to a suspected fire at an apartment building.

Herrmann was still directing his speech to his audience of none once they mounted the truck and headed down the road in a wailing of lights and sirens.

\--

Lieutenant Casey was the first one out of the truck once they arrived on the scene. Nothing seemed amiss and there was no obvious sign of a fire or anyone in distress anywhere in sight.

“Neighbour called in a smoke alert on the fifth floor,” said Chief Boden once he stepped out of his truck, “Said she smelled smoke in the hallways of her apartment but couldn’t see a fire or where it was coming from.”

“Alright,” said Casey affirmatively. “Mouch, on the hose. Otis, check around outback. Everyone just wait for my go-to. Hermann, Kidd, on me.”

“_Roger,_” came the collective response.

“Watch yourself, Casey,” said Chief Boden.

Casey just nodded before gearing up and heading into the building. There were a smattering of people standing around outside and a handful of people still making their way out when Casey and his team entered. The fire alarm hadn’t gone off which meant they’d probably smelt the smoke and exited the building of their own volition. The fewer civilians around the more at ease Casey felt heading into a call.

He glanced around to make sure Herrmann and Kidd were on his flank before entering the stairwell and starting the climb up to the fifth floor.

The smell of smoke was pungent in his nostril when he stepped out of the exit door into the hallway, he could see the tendrils of smoke swirling in the air but there was no heat and no sign of fire but it did little to calm Casey’s nerves. Experience had taught him that a fire he couldn’t see was more dangerous than one he could, especially because he couldn’t tell where it was coming from or what was causing it.

The only thing they could do at that point was check all the apartments on the floor and just hope that nothing worse was brewing in the wind.

He assigned Kidd and Herrmann to the left side of the hall and himself to check the apartments along the right side. They two were two doors away from him when he noticed smoke seeping out the top of the door he was standing in front and called to the two of them for back up.

The door was unfortunately locked, but it took barely any effort from Kidd and the halligan to get it open.

“Fire department!” yelled out Casey before he stepped in, not finding any immediate threat besides the plume of smoke that escaped the moment the door swung open. The cause, it turned out, was just a pot of something that was left to burn on the stove. There didn’t seem to be anyone in the apartment, save for the upturned side table behind the door, the stuff on it scattered on the floor and the broken coffee table in the middle of the room.

Something obviously happened in that apartment to leave it a scattering mess with food still cooking on the stove.

“Looks like a couple of lovebirds went at it a little too rough last night,” said Herrmann with a scoff once they turned off the stove and ran the blistering pot under the tap at the sink.

Casey didn’t answer him. “_Fire department_,” he called out, “Is anyone home?”

Nothing in the apartment gave any indication as to the identity of the person who lived there, save for one black and white wedding picture on the mantle, or whether the person was even home. There was no answer to Casey’s call and no one else in sight.

“Hello?” called out Kidd, walking around the empty apartment, peeking into the open closet and out at the veranda.

Casey was in the middle of calling it in to the Chief when Herrmann’s voice called out to him from the side table beside the TV.

“What is it?” he asked as he approached.

Herrmann was oddly quiet which was an unnerving event in itself and only turned around when Casey reached over to place a hand on his shoulder. “Lieutenant,” he half turned when Casey stepped up behind, holding up a framed picture for Casey to see. “That look like Jay Halstead in that picture?” he asked, pointing at the familiar face in the, posing with his arm around another guy; Casey recognized him as one of Halstead’s Ranger friends that used to work at the station.

“Is this his apartment?” asked Kidd, coming up to look at the picture from over Casey’s shoulder.

“I don’t know, never been here,” said Herrmann, “Maybe Gabby should have come,” he said, before he realized what had come out of his mouth and who he’d said the words to. He immediately recanted. “Sorry.”

It didn’t even occur to Casey to be offended by the statement, he knew Halstead and Gabby had a thing once upon a time ago, but he accepted that it was all in the past. A variety of thoughts started going through his mind and none of it boded well for the other man. He didn’t know Halstead personally, but Gabby trusted him and despite being a detective under Sergeant Voight’s command, Halstead had always proven himself a trustworthy person and a good friend.

“Jay?” he called out, tearing his eyes away from the picture and looking around the apartment.

“I’ll check the bedroom,” said Herrmann immediately, placing the picture down immediately and stepping to the door he was standing closest to.

He’d barely opened the door and stepped in when his panicked voice called out to Casey again. Casey and Kidd convened on him immediately and glanced in to see what had spooked him so badly.

Blood.

_Pools of it_ \- staining the floor and even splattering up the side of the wall. The entire bedroom was a wreck, personal belongings scattered, broken glass strewn all across on the floor. The bed was upturned; the mattress and sheets covered in blood splatters and bloodied handprints.

“Oh my god,” gasped Herrmann.

Casey could feel the bile rising up to his throat but he swallowed it back immediately.

Without a second look around, he made an immediate beeline for the bathroom, noticing red bloodied drag marks headed towards the far end of the room.

What he found drove the breath from his lungs.

Halstead was on the floor, half slumped over in a pool of his own blood. His back against the once white tile wall being held upright by his wrists handcuffed painfully strict above his head to the metal towel rail. His head hung low, bangs covering his face from view but he appeared to be unconscious. Casey refused to entertain the thought of an even grimmer scenario.

He could see blood trickling out the side of his mouth, down his chin and dripping down to his lap. He was still dressed in his day clothes, his dark pants and t-shirt hiding the red colour it had obviously been stained, though the blue flannel he had on under his jacket had all but been dyed a nasty shade of brown.

“Get a bus!” he yelled before anything. In the back of his mind he could hear Herrmann muttering unintelligibly and Kidd calling in for the ambo. He could almost hear Chief Boden’s expletive response through the receiver though he didn’t linger to make sure.

He dashed forwards, dropping to his knees before even coming to a complete stop in front of Halstead, scrambling with shaking hands to find a pulse against his already too cold neck.

Seconds ticked by as Casey prayed under his breath. After what seemed like a lifetime he felt it, the thready thrumming against his fingertips – it was weak and barely noticeable but it was there at least. He could see the painful, shallow breaths Halstead was taking and it was enough to spur him back into command. “I need the bolt cutters!” he yelled out. Part of him, the professional fire-fighter side of him, told him he needed to wait for the paramedics; that moving Halstead in that condition might cause even more damage. The same part told him he needed to wait for PD, and was probably destroying evidence they needed to catch the person responsible by just being there. But the human side of him, the one who considered Halstead a friend, knew he could leave him like that for a second longer. “Hang in there, Jay. Just hang in there.”

He felt Herrmann stepping up beside him, bolt cutter in hand and immediately reached up to grasp Halstead’s wrists in his hands, holding it firm but gently, not knowing whether he’d broken or dislocated anything and not wanted to risk it if he had. “Kidd,” he called and was relieved that he didn’t need to elaborate further. Kidd was immediately on her knees at Halstead’s other side, reaching over to steady his neck before Herrmann put the bolt cutter blades against the chains of the handcuff and brought it together.

The chain-link gave away like it’d been made of paper mache.

Casey held Halstead’s arms up as Herrmann immediately crouched down to hold his shoulders and together they lowered him to the floor on his back.

Halstead’s brows furrowed slightly and he groaned painfully at the movement but that was the only reaction he showed. He remained deathly still.

Up close Halstead’s injuries looked even worse than Casey originally thought. His face was a mess of black and blue, molted purple and yellow across a good half of it and crusted dried blood across his cheek and forehead. There were trails of thick coagulated blood down the side of his mouth and down his neck which was never a good sign. His knuckles were a bloodied mess which meant told Casey that he hadn’t gone down without a fight. Both his wrists were completely black and blue. Casey couldn’t even tell whether anything was broken but he had concerns that perhaps _too_ many things were broken.

“Where’s that ambo?” asked Casey, trying to remember all his first aid training, glancing over Halstead’s still figure to find the worst of his injures. If the blood on the floor and in the bedroom was any indication, Halstead was hurt worse than what his dark clothes indicated.

“A minute out, lieutenant,” said Kidd, reaching over to tear open the front of Halstead’s shirt.

Casey heard a couple of voices from somewhere inside the apartment and managed to call out to them before his words got caught in his throat the moment the true severity of Halstead’s injuries came into view.

Almost immediately he spotted the gunshot wound in the left side of his abdomen, just below his ribs. The hole was apparent even through the amount of blood coating his torso. Casey had seen his fair share of GSW’s considering his profession and he could tell that the gun had gone off at almost point blank range to leave that sort of wound.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” gasped Herman. Casey couldn’t find the words to respond but he definitely agreed with that statement.

Kidd had reached over for a towel and was using it to apply pressure on the gunshot wound.

Casey couldn’t even think straight, he could only hope that the ambulance was going to arrive soon and somehow that it wouldn’t be Gabby and Brett answering the call.

He realized that Chief Boden had arrived to assess the situation but at that point he could only focus on the sound of a shuddering gasp that appeared before the all too familiar voice called Jay’s name.

Immediately he stepped back, giving Gabby and Brett room to work to save Halstead’s life. He had hoped that another house had gotten the call but he couldn’t deny that Gabby was one of the best paramedics in the city, he knew that Halstead was in good hands.

He could only stand back and watch Gabby and Brett work to stabilize Halsted and staunch the bleeding. He noticed Kidd stepping up beside him and placing a hand on his shoulder and he appreciated the show of comfort. The feeling was short lived though, until Gabby and Brett lifted Halstead onto his side to check for an exit wound but instead found an additional stab wound in his lower right flank to add to his growing list of grievous injuries.

Casey felt nauseated. He knew his and Halstead’s job came with its fair share of risks, but it always astounded him the length human beings could go to cause harm to another person.

Fire was a dangerous entity in itself, it destroyed without mercy but it was also what separated humans from the rest of god’s creatures. Being a fire-fighter, Casey feared and respected fire in the same breath, after all could he not? Fire was terrifying, but it was also beautiful. It could give life and take it away.

But humanity – humanity was ugly. It was scary and ugly in equal measures and never did that fact appear truer than when Casey found himself faced with situations like this. He couldn’t understand how humans could do things like this to a fellow human being and he probably never would. He didn’t think he wanted to either.

“No breath sounds on the left,” said Brett, putting away the stethoscope and not waiting for Gabby’s response before she reached over for the intubation kit.

“Come on, Jay,” said Gabby. Casey could hear the emotion and the way her voice shook, though her hands remained steady. “Come on. Hang in there please.”

He watched as Brett eased the see-through tube down Halstead throat and took over breathing for him. It was unnerving how still the other man was as the paramedics scrambled him to save his life. He hadn’t stirred once the entire time they’d been there and Casey didn’t want to even think about what that might mean.

Kidd immediately stepped in to help, taking over squeezing the ambu-bag and leaving Brett to assist Gabby trying to stop the blood still seeping from the gaping wound in his chest.

Casey was supposed to be in charge. He needed to be in charge, but all he could do was just gape stupidly at the scene before his eyes and watch the man who was always so full of life looking so lifeless.

He needed to do something. He needed to call the rest of Intelligence. He needed to call Halstead’s brother and let him know what happened. He needed… he needed to breathe.

The firm hand on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts and when Chief Boden’s voice instructed him to accompany the paramedics and Halstead to the hospital, the only thing he could do was oblige like a little boy who’d been given an order by his father.

The rest of Truck 81 was waiting for them when they got out of the elevator and gathered around the stretcher as they wheeled Halstead out to the awaiting ambulance.

Kidd was still manually pumping the ambu-bag as they loaded him in and Brett rushed to the driver’s seat without waiting for the doors to even close. It was a tight fit in the back with him, Kidd and Gabby but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they got Halstead to the hospital as soon as possible and that they kept him alive in the meantime.

Casey could hear the sound of the truck sirens following behind them as they sped through the street. Halstead wasn’t a fire-fighter, but his occupation made him a brother regardless. Especially because they all knew him. Because they liked him. Despite Casey’s personal feelings about Voight, Halstead was a good friend and he was good friends with Antonio and Antonio _was_ family. It meant that Halstead was pretty much family by proxy.

And Casey always looked out for his family.

“Hang in there, Jay,” he muttered, “Just hang in there.”

** _tbc._ **


	3. The Emergency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also as I’ve established in my other Chicago One fic, Paralytic, (because it has been confirmed by Derek Haas and Jesse Soffer) Jay is the younger of the two.

The Emergency Department of Chicago Med was prone to its fair share of hectic situations. The emergency in Emergency Department made it by definition a hectic situation. So it came as a surprise to no one when their relatively peaceful morning was abruptly cut short by an accident, an accidental stabbing, a far from accidental anal situation and some sort of fungal infection of the nether regions which was passed on to some poor new med student as the ED version of a warm welcome. It really wasn’t a far cry from their usual morning anyway.

So no one but the two doctors in question batted an eye when Maggie loudly announced, “Doctor Rhodes, Doctor Choi, incoming!” to the seemingly inattentive room.

However, Will who had been leaning against the edge of the counter right in Maggie’s line of sight glanced back at his two fellow doctors who were headed towards the entrance and the sound of the wailing of the ambulance approaching the emergency bay, before turning back around to glare at Maggie with his arms open as if to say ‘really?’

“What am I? Chopped liver?” he asked, mock offended.

Maggie didn’t smile or look even remotely amused by the teasing in his voice. “Doctor Halstead, a word?”

Will raised a sceptical eyebrow, looking towards April who was glancing between the two of them with a small half-smile on her face, obviously understanding the seriousness in Maggie’s demeanour better than he did. “Uh-oh, what did I do now?” he asked jokingly, pushing himself off the counter and stepping up closer to Maggie, learning with his hip against the separator beam and putting on his most innocent face.

Instead of absolving him of any wrongdoing or reprimanding him for something he obviously hadn’t done, Maggie instead reached over, grasped him gently by the elbow and pulled him to the side, the expression on her face uncharacteristically grave. “Doctor Halstead – _Will_,” she said pointedly, “I need to tell you something. Please try to stay calm.”

“What?” Will could feel his gut clenching because of Maggie’s strange behaviour but his brain just couldn’t imagine what could be so terrible to warrant it. “What happened?”

In the background there was the sound of the ambulance speeding into the bay and the chattering of the medics shouting out the age and stat of the victim as the doors of the ED slid open. Will wasn’t listening to what was being said, it was just white noise in his mind.

“Will… I think you should sit down –”

“Maggie, what’s going on?” Will could hear the sound of the group of people entering the ED, in the foreground he could hear Connor’s voice yelling for Baghdad. Whatever the new case was, it sounded serious.

“Will –” 

“Maggie, just tell me!” Will realized he was attracting attention the way he was yelling at Maggie, but he didn’t care. He could feel his heart dropping to his stomach, he didn’t even know why and Maggie’s vagueness wasn’t helping any.

“Will…” Will had just opened his mouth to say something, something expletive ridden before Maggie continued, her eyes sympathetic, “It’s Jay.”

“It’s…” he could feel the gears of his brain creaking, trying to decipher Maggie’s vague and frankly unhelpful explanation. “What about Jay? What are you –” And almost like the hammer dropping it finally clicked.

The call.

The ambulance.

Maggie assigning it to Connor and Ethan.

_It’s Jay_.

That’s what Maggie said. That’s what he heard. That’s what his brain was yelling at him but somehow it was making little sense.

_It’s Jay._

His heart that felt like it had dropped to his knees immediately leapt back up to his throat and all of a sudden he couldn’t breathe.

_It’s Jay._

He twirled around just in time to see the mass of people, doctors, nurses and paramedic disappearing into Baghdad. He could make out a couple of familiar fire-fighter jackets among the crowd assembled just outside the room.

“Jay.” He could only breathe out the name like it had been ripped from his body. Everything else felt like it was moving in slow motion. Will pushed away from Maggie who’d reached over to grab him around the elbow. He stumbled across the ED, shoving aside anyone unfortunate enough to be in his way.

Jay.

That was the only thought in his mind, the only name on his tongue.

“Jay!”

The instant he reached the entrance of Baghdad it almost felt like his legs could no longer hold him up. He stumbled, reaching over to grab the dividing wall to keep himself upright.

The sight that met his eyes was one he’d never be able to forget.

It was his brother – his little brother – lying there on the gurney looking more dead than alive. Machines breathing for him. Machines keeping him alive.

There was so much blood.

Jay was drenched in it. The gurney under him was saturated with it and it still dripped down to the floor leaving red droplets like a trail of macabre crumbs.

It was his brother. He needed to do something. He was a doctor – his job was to help people. What the hell was the point of it all if he couldn’t even help his own brother when he needed him the most?

But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t get his hands to stop shaking. His knees felt like jelly and he could barely keep himself standing let alone being able to move freely around the room the way he needed to.

He sensed a presence at his side and looked down to see Nat who’d seemingly materialized out of nowhere, reaching around to hug him around the waist, allowing him to use her as a crutch.

Will couldn’t keep his attention on her for long. His eyes quickly turned back to look at what was happening inside the room; Connor and Ethan were yelling out instructions to the rest of the medical staff; more people entering the room carrying bags of blood and saline and all sorts of medical stuff Will knew, but never in a million years would have expected to see it being used to keep his own brother alive.

His eyes all of a sudden focused on the broken handcuffs that were still on Jay’s wrists and he blanched.

What happened? Who did this? How could someone do this?

All the questions were running through Will’s mind. His could see even from the distance the mess that was Jay’s entire torso – and the gunshot wound. His entire chest was black and blue, a sign that a couple of ribs were (the very least) broken.

He watched almost hypnotically as Ethan slid the scalpel across the skin between Jay’s ribs and put in the chest tube. The process was gruesome and painful on any other day but especially when it was being performed on a loved one. _His_ loved one.

Will couldn’t even begin to imagine how much pain Jay must have suffered through – will still suffer though.

_If he didn’t die_.

There was a commotion somewhere behind him; he didn’t need to turn around to investigate because almost immediately members of Intelligence appeared in his periphery.

He heard Voight cursing and the sound of Hailey’s sob once their eyes fell on Jay.

“What the hell happened?” demanded Voight, looking around.

Will wasn’t privy to the history between the two men – only what Jay had told him during pizza nights when it was just the two of them hanging out watching the game, but the fact that it was Casey who stepped up to answer spoke to the gravity of the situation.

“We got a call about a suspected fire at an apartment,” said Casey grimly. “We found him like this handcuffed in the bathroom. The living room and the bedroom showed signs of a fight. It was… it was a mess. That’s all we know.”

Voight nodded, offering his thanks before turning back to watch as the doctors continued working to stabilize Jay, whose blood pressure had all of a sudden plummeted, a sign that he was bleeding internally.

The sound of running footsteps coming to a halt brought the appearance of Antonio, Atwater, Kim and Ruzek.

“God, what the hell happened?” inquired Ruzek, parroting Voight’s earlier question. Hailey was openly crying, and didn’t seem able to do much of anything besides that, watching her partner fighting for his life inside the emergency room.

The sudden influx of people spilling into the room prompted Connor to have them all kicked out and the curtains pulled shut to give them privacy and the space to work on Jay.

It was only Nat’s presence at his side and her arms around his torso that kept him rooted, because his only instinct was to rush back towards the room and stay by Jay’s side like his presence would be able to keep his brother from dying.

“Chief,” said Voight, only then did Will finally notice that Chief Boden and the other fire-fighters had also arrived. “I’d appreciate if your men could walk us through what happened back at the crime sce – back at Jay’s place.”

“Of course,” said the Chief.

Casey immediately stepped forward to offer his help which Voight accepted gladly.

The sergeant had turned to address the rest of the team when there was the sound of curtains being pulled back before Connor stepped out of Baghdad, caught sight of them standing in a half circle a few feet away and approached; his steps purposeful and his face grim.

Will didn’t get the chance to ask anything before Connor spoke.

“We’re still trying to stabilize him and get him up to the OR as soon as we can.” He directed that bit at Will, and watched sadly as Will’s shoulder fell disappointedly. “There will be time to explain the extent of his injuries but I thought, Sergeant Voight –” he glanced over to the sergeant already staring back at him intently, “You needed to know first that in addition to the gunshot wound, Jay also suffered two stab wounds. One in the side,” Connor said gravely, “and one in the right flank…” he trailed off.

A heavy silence descended on the room at the information.

Everyone who was familiar with the case the detectives were working felt their stomachs drop. The fire-fighters and Brett looked confusedly around at each other, not understanding gravity of the situation. Only Gabby, who was probably caught up to the case because of Antonio, looked as shell shocked as the rest of them.

Will’s mind all of a sudden flashed back to the conversation he’d had with his brother and the team the day before about the victim that had been brought in. Was it only yesterday that it happened? He couldn’t stop wondering whether he told Jay he loved him before he walked away. Whether he told him that he was proud of the job he was doing and the man he’d turned out to be?

When was the last time he told his brother he loved him? When was the last time they said those words to each other? He couldn’t remember and the reality sunk in like a punch in the gut.

His brother could die and Will didn’t know if he knew that he loved him.

His brother could die and he wouldn’t even get the chance to say those words to him one last time.

All of a sudden, his legs that had barely been able to keep him upright finally just gave away and Will found himself crumpling to the floor on his hands and knees. Nat’s lithe form was unable to do anything but watch his pathetic descent in slow motion.

How could this be happening?

This _couldn’t_ be happening – it _shouldn’t_ be happening.

Jay was a good person – a great person. He served his country, he served his city and its people – he put his life of the line every single day to help others in need and to see how he was being repaid for his service… he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of this.

His brother was hurt – possibly dying just because he wanted to do the right thing; for wanting to protect his family and friends and the people of his city.

Will would do anything – give anything to be able to take his pain away, but the only thing he had to offer in that moment was his tears.

There was the sound of Ethan’s voice calling for Connor and immediately he was sprinting back towards the room.

Will couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He could barely feel Nat’s warm hand rubbing his back and offering words of comfort that only fell on deaf ears.

The only sound Will wanted to hear was the sound of Jay’s voice and the sound of his laughter, but all he got was Connor shouting over the noise of everything else before the curtains of Baghdad was pulled back and the crowd of medical personnel exited the room.

Will stumbled but was finally able to find his feet. He ran towards the gurney, Ethan who’d noticed him coming made room for him at Jay’s side, allowing Will to take a good look at his brother as he reached over to grasp onto his hand.

“It’s gonna be okay, Will,” he said, but Will couldn’t make himself believe the empty words. He’d spoken them too many times to grieving family members to be able to believe them himself.

He could only look at Jay’s face and the rise and fall of his chest with every pump of the ventilator.

“He’s my brother,” he murmured to no one in particular, barely loud enough to be heard but somehow Connor heard him because he reached over to place his hand over the one Will had clutching onto Jay’s. “He’s my brother, Connor,” he repeated, his tear filled eyes glancing up to stare into Connor’s sympathetic ones. “He’s my brother.” He said, as if repeating the phrase would somehow affect the outcome of everything.

“I know,” said Connor, squeezing his hand, “And I’ll take care of him like he’s mine. I promise.”

And for the first time in what seemed like an eternity since Jay was wheeled into the emergency room, Will was afforded a small measure of reassurance by Connor’s words.

He nodded, before tearing his eyes away to look back at Jay. Carefully he lifted Jay’s hand that he was clutching and plated a kiss in the back of his torn, bloodied knuckles. He noted the absence of the broken handcuffs – someone must have taken them off at some point during the commotion and he was thankful. The handcuffs only made the mental image of his brother being tied down like a dog while he was being tortured all the more real.

“I love you, Jay. I love you so much. Please don’t leave me.”

Only the slow, unsteady beeping of the heart monitor answered him.

**_tbc_.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there is it, the conclusion of the “crossover” and the beginning of the actual Jay whump. This is where the story really picks up and (in my opinion) the chapters only get better from here on out. Hope you enjoy and feel free to leave a comment.


	4. The Wait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In light of the great trauma we suffered because of the latest episode and this horrible wait we will have to sit through, I thought what better way to take out mind off Jay’s pain by reading more of Jay’s pain, right? Also, aptly titled chapter for this story and our lives at this point though.

The wait was like counting down the seconds of eternity. Will lost count after the first three hours or so but still the wait brought no news from the operating room.

The last time he managed to tear himself out of his dark thoughts; out of the dark memories of fights between him and Jay that he’d never be able to apologize for – the fear of losing the only brother he had and one of the two family members he had left; remembering the grief brought on by his mom’s death and the way it tore their family apart – he noticed Nat still planted firmly at his side. The fire-fighters had left which was understandable, they all had their own jobs to do – it wasn’t like their entire world had stopped because of what happened, though he noticed Gabby and Brett still hanging around. Gabby was pacing up and down the length of the room while Brett sat silently, slumped over the chair with her chin resting on a fisted knuckle.

Hailey was there too, as was Detective Olinsky. Sergeant Voight, Kim, Antonio, Atwater and Ruzek had gone to Jay’s apartment with Casey not long after Jay was taken to the OR to find out whatever they could about what happened.

Once in a while Detective Olinsky would walk over, place his hand on Will’s shoulder and tell him in a soft, calming voice that Jay was going to be okay; that he was too stubborn to die that way.

He recalled Jay saying the exact same words to him the last time he found himself in a room waiting for news about a loved from the OR.

He appreciated the sureness the older man had in those words, almost like the idea that Jay might not pull through wasn’t even a possibility to him. Will could see how much the detective understood the kind of person Jay was and how much he cared about him, and he understood why Sergeant Voight asked him to stay around, his calmness was like a balm that was infectious to everyone around him.

Mrs. Goodwin stopped by from time to time, as did Maggie and some of the other hospital staff; the people who knew Jay; some who’d even been helped by him at one point or another. It was heart-warming to see the care and concern people were showing, even those he didn’t expect to know his brother at all.

Will knew he needed to get back to work. He was still a doctor. He still had patients to treat. It wasn’t like the world stopped turning just because Jay was hurt. But he just wasn’t able to drag himself to his feet. He couldn’t imagine not being there where Connor stepped in through the door to deliver the news – whatever it might turn out to be.

_Jay could die_.

The voice was like an echo repeating incessantly inside his brain.

Another hour passed before Ruzek and Atwater reappeared without Voight but with his father in tow.

Will felt bad that in the chaos he hadn’t even thought to call their father to let him know what had happened.

He managed to drag himself to his feet when his dad noticed him sitting there and headed immediately in his direction.

He’d only managed a soft, “Dad–” before he found himself half smothered in his father’s chest when the man pulled him into an unexpected hug.

It took him a few second to process the situation before he finally managed to get his limbs work; lifting his arms to circle around his dad’s torso and burying his face in the man’s shoulder. He did then what he’d never done with his father his whole life.

He cried.

And in turn, his father did what he’d never done with any of his children their whole lives.

He hugged him, comforted him and told him everything was going to be okay – that Jay was going to be okay.

And for a minute, Will felt like he was a little kid again believing wholeheartedly that his father knew everything and that his father could do anything. In this case, he trusted that Jay was going to be okay, just because his father said he was going to be.

He vaguely remembered turning to Detective Olinsky when he walked over again and asked him if someone could try and get a hold of Mouse to tell him what happened. He was Jay’s closest friend – he knew and understood Jay better than Will probably ever would – he deserved to know. The detective told him that Sergeant Platt had been tasked to inform him.

He noticed the rest of Intelligence slowly returning one by one, Sergeant Voight stopping to grasp him comfortingly on the shoulder before he found the rest of the team standing huddled near the far end of the room. But other than that, everything else and everyone else that passed through the waiting room during those long, terrible hours was an indistinct blur in Will’s mind.

Until the moment Connor stepped in through the door.

Then it was like everything coming to a halt and into focus immediately and at the same time. The change was so abrupt it almost knocked Will to the floor but he managed to keep himself upright, finding his feet in one swift move and headed towards Connor before anyone else even realized he was there.

His expression betrayed nothing about the direness of the news he was bringing. He looked pale and tired but nothing about his body language looked defeated which Will desperately grasped onto as a good sign.

He reached out to grasp Connor’s shoulder the exact moment the man reached out to grasp his in return.

“He’s alive,” said Connor before Will could even open his mouth to ask – to _beg_ for good news. Immediately Will felt the relief flooding him, driving the breath from his lungs and causing him to double over. “He’s alive,” said Connor again to the rest of the people convening on him. “His condition is still critical and he’s not out of the woods just yet, but he is alive.”

Will managed to straighten up and keep himself upright, turning around to find Hailey’s sobbing figure doubled over behind him. Immediately he reached over and pulled her into a tight hug.

“He’s alive,” he said, words of assurance repeated to both Hailey and himself. “He’s alive.”

The first thing Connor said turned out to be the only good news in what seemed to be an almost infinite checklist of bad, because once he started listing down the extent and the grievousness of Jay’s injuries, Will could do little to suppress the bile that rose up into his throat at the sheer imagery of the suffering Jay went through at the hands of the monster that attacked him.

“The bullet missed most of his vital organs but punctured a lung and the hemopneumothorax was further acerbated by his broken ribs. Ironically, the bullet itself was also what kept him from bleeding further into his lung. The knife wound however managed to do damage to his kidney and small intestines which caused some internal bleeding. We were able to repair the damage to his intestines and save the kidney but we have to keep a close eye on it for the next few days to prevent infection.

“I don’t know how long he was left to bleed out, especially with the injuries he’d suffered, it’s honestly a miracle or a testament to his strength that he was able to hang on until the paramedics got to him,” explained Connor, reaching up to pull off the surgical hat and absentmindedly folding it up. “He also suffered a mild concussion; contusions to the face and neck, possibly from the assailant coming up from behind him; a broken wrist and broken metacarpal bone of his left hand – the bruising and injuries to both knuckles indicates that the attacker didn’t get out of this unscathed. Plus a couple of broken ribs, a mild fracture of the cheekbone and a hairline fracture of the clavicle and a hell of a lot of external injuries and bruising. Your son’s one hell of a fighter, Mr. Halstead,” said Connor, addressing the older man standing just behind Will.

“Damn right he is,” said his dad and Will wondered if he was imagining the tearful pride in his father’s words when he said it.

“Can we see him?” asked Hailey, pulling away from Will and straightening up, brushing the remaining tears from her face.

“You can,” said Connor though Will could sense the hesitancy in the way he said it. “However, like I said, his condition is still critical and very unstable. We’d like to keep him in medically induced coma for at least a few days to allow his body to rest and so that we can keep a closer eye on his injuries and decide our course of action from then on out.”

Will felt his stomach sink. He knew Connor said that Jay’s condition was serious but a drug induced coma meant life support and ventilators and the chance that Jay could just as easily die and somehow he wanted to believe that Jay was on the path to recovery and not just… lingering. He was a doctor. He knew how fast a patient’s condition could all of a sudden take a turn for the worse. Not to mention the additional risks of being dependent on the machines to stay alive.

The fact that his brain associated the impersonal term of ‘a patient’ with his brother unnerved Will deeply and he cleared his throat to distract himself.

“What’s the long term prognosis?” He asked instead, willing to mask the worries of a brother with the professionalism of a doctor because he couldn’t manage to be both at the same time in that situation.

Connor exhaled. “Long term? – Good. He didn’t suffer any major neurological or spinal injuries as far as we can tell, though we will have to wait for him to wake up to be able to know for certain. However, the knife came pretty close to hitting the lumbar spine, which is what the attacker was probably aiming for. Short term however… I’m not going to sugar-coat it – the next forty-eight hours are going to be the most critical, if he pulls through that, I have no doubt that he’ll make a complete recovery.” Will didn’t miss the way Connor said ‘if’. But he knew Connor was nothing if not pragmatic when it came to his patients and doing his job so he didn’t take it personal. Connor however must have noticed his reaction because he added; “But despite going through what he went through, he still managed to hang on and I don’t doubt that there’s still some fight left in him.”

Connor’s eyes were on him when he finished and Will mouthed a sincere thank you to the man which was reciprocated with a curt nod.

They followed Connor up to the ICU floor; him, Hailey at his side, Nat trailing along a little ways behind, her arm around his dad’s elbow and the rest of Jay’s team trudging along bringing up the rear.

They always made exception for the police and fire-fighters when it came to hospital rules, it was just something unspoken between the medical staff knowing the kind of job they did and the way they put their lives on the line day in a day out for the job.

Sergeant Voight was oddly quiet through the whole ordeal, Will noticed the absence of his voice yelling out commands or reprimanding someone for something they’d done and he remained quiet as he followed a few steps behind the rest of the team as they made their way towards Jay’s room.

Even being a doctor, Will’s second least favourite department in the entire hospital was the ICU (the first was the morgue). People there were always the sickest of the sick and they went there either to get better or to die, it was never anything in between.

Will didn’t think he could ever prepare himself enough to see Jay in that condition and all the macabre thoughts running through his mind during the journey wasn’t helping any. He didn’t know whether it was a brother’s intuition but somehow he just knew which of the similar looking rooms belonged to Jay before he was even anywhere in the vicinity, but he took no measure of comfort in being right when Connor stepped right into the room and disappeared behind the curtain.

Will found himself subconsciously slowing his steps, causing Nat to almost run into his back when he all of a sudden stopped just shy of entering the room.

He could already hear the beeping of the heart monitor and the steady hissing of the ventilator even from the distance and it did nothing to steel his nerves or calm his thundering heart.

“Will, you okay?” Hailey asked, but the lump in his throat prevented him from giving her a coherent answer.

He just managed a muted nod, swallowing hard and stepped right into the room without thinking about it. If he stopped to reconsider, he feared he might actually turn tail and run because he was terrified.

And he was right to be so because the reality – actually seeing Jay laying there in the cubicle in the ICU surrounded by machines keeping him alive, wires weaving in and out of his figure that all of a sudden seemed way too young and much too still; looking at the breathing tube down his throat and the machine that was breathing for him that all of a sudden seemed so intimidating; it was a sight he never could have been able to prepare himself for.

Jay’s heart was beating, but that was the only indication that he was still even in there. He was lying half propped up on the raised bed, his battered and bruised chest rose and fell mechanically with every pump of the ventilator. His lower half was covered by a white blanket and a hospital gown was half draped over his chest and shoulders, shielding the bandages and worst of his injuries from view but still Will could tell that it was bad. He could see the chest tube snaking out his side and the myriad of wires and tubes leading to and from nearly every visible inch of his body. His left hand was wrapped up securely in a dark splint that extended from midway up his arm to the tip of his ring and pinky fingers, propped up on a small pillow at his side. Although Connor said that he’d suffered no damage to his spine, he had on a strict neck brace, Will knew it was just as precaution because he might have suffered injuries to his neck and to keep the breathing tube from shifting around and damaging his throat, but the sight was gut-wrenching and terrifying.

The only part of him that wasn’t injured or obscured by tapes or wires or tubes was his forehead and Will went for it immediately the moment he stepped up to his side. He reached over to run his fingers through his brother’s hair, stiff from the blood and sweat, and planted a kiss on his forehead. He paused for a moment to just stare at Jay’s face, hoping against hope that he’d somehow get a sign, a twitch, eyelashes fluttering – _anything_, to let him know that his brother knew he was there, that somehow Jay could sense him being there.

But Jay’s eyes remained closed, his eyelashes dark against the stark whiteness of his cheek and he didn’t stir even a little. Will knew what he wanted was impossible – Connor had said that they were keeping him sedated; he knew Jay was in a drug induced coma and was likely to remain that way until his condition improved and the doctor side of him told him he was dumb for even hoping for something so ridiculous. But it was the brother side of him that was in control of his emotions at that moment. How could it not be? Jay was his only brother and he loved him beyond words.

He could hear a few people cursing behind him just as the sight of Jay came into full view of the rest of his team.

Hailey walked around the bed over to Jay’s right side and reached over to take his hand in hers, mindful of the crisscrossing lines and the clip on monitor on his finger.

“Jay, I’m right here. We’re all here,” he said, resting his forehead against his brother’s. He sensed his father stepping up beside him and watched as he gently, more gentle that he ever thought his dad was capable of being, placed his hand over Jay’s splinted hand that was resting on the pillow.

“Yeah, Jay,” said Hailey, sniffling and using her other hand to wipe away the tear trickling down her cheek. “We’re all here for you. You just… you just fight this, okay, we know you can.”

The rest of the team stepped up to surround the bed, Detective Olinsky walked over to where Hailey stood, reached over to circle her shoulder with one arm and the other reaching over to cover her hand that was grasping onto Jay’s. Kim, Atwater and Ruzek stood shoulder to shoulder at the foot of the bed. Will saw that Ruzek had his arm around Kim’s shoulder in comfort. Antonio hadn’t approached, only turning his back and pacing up and down the short length of the room like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

Will noticed Sergeant Voight standing apart from the rest of them. He had his hands in his pockets and was chewing the inside of his cheek almost obsessively. The look on his face wasn’t one Will could decipher but even he could tell that it wasn’t anything that boded well for the person responsible for doing this to his brother.

Glancing down at Jay, watching the rise and fall of his chest and subconsciously synching his own breathing with his brother’s, Will couldn’t help but think that he _wanted_ bad things to happen to the person who did this to him. He wanted the person to pay for what he’d done. He wanted him to suffer – the way Jay had undoubtedly suffered for who knows how long.

He both wanted to know the details and wanted to remain oblivious to the imagery of it, but then he remembered what Casey had said about finding him handcuffed in the bathroom – hurt and in pain and left to bleed out and die _alone_.

He wanted the person responsible for causing his brother that kind of pain to feel every single bit of it. He wanted him dead and if nothing else, he knew that he could count of the sergeant to make it a reality.

The whole room was silent but for the intermingling of sounds of the myriad of life support machines that surrounded Jay’s bed with everyone taking in the sight of their injured teammate and friend and undoubtedly sharing the exact same thought as Will.

After a while, Sergeant Voight cleared his throat, grabbing the attention of the whole team who turned to look at him; all of them with a renewed drive and intensity in their eyes. The sergeant said nothing, only nodding towards the door, indicating that he wanted everyone to gather outside Jay’s room.

All of them filtered out hesitantly one by one until it was only Hailey and Sergeant Voight left with Will and his dad. Hailey didn’t blink the entire time she stood there staring at Jay’s lax face, almost like she was expecting the impossible to happen just like Will. Eventually she gave up, leaning down to plant a whisper of a kiss on his cheek and staying in that position for a moment longer, whispering something into Jay’s ear that Will couldn’t hear. Eventually she too stepped out to join the rest of her team.

Will looked at the sergeant who hadn’t moved a muscle; his eyes were locked onto Jay. He stood so still the entire time that when he finally did move it was like watching a wax figure all of a sudden come to life. He stepped into the spot Hailey had vacated, reaching over to grasp Jay’s shoulder. His grip was firm but careful; his thumb massaging around the hollow of Jay’s collarbone like it was both an offering of strength to Jay and as a measure of comfort for himself.

“We’re going to get the son of a bitch that did this, Jay. I promise you that. I won’t let him get away. I won’t let him do this to another person, you have my word.” Will couldn’t help but notice the sergeant’s already gravelly voice sounding thick with emotion. After a moment, the sergeant’s eyes glanced to look at Will and his dad and he repeated the same words to them.

Will swallowed the lump of emotion in his throat before he could even think of answering. “You just get the person who did this, sergeant – just… just get them.”

The man nodded and with one last lingering glance at Jay he walked out, patting him on the shin one last time before he left.

Will didn’t know how much time passed between Sergeant Voight and his team leaving him and his dad alone with Jay, but the next moment he was snapping out of a daydream he didn’t even realize he was having in a chair he didn’t even know was there in the room and it was just him and Hailey sitting there listening to the steady beeping sound reassuring them that Jay was still alive.

“Your dad went to get coffee. He asked if you wanted any but you didn’t answer,” she explained.

Will’s muddled brain was still unable to piece together a coherent thought, much less process any of what was being said. “I thought you left with the team?” he asked instead after a moment and unable to find anything to add to her statement.

“We’re taking turns staying with Jay, just so that someone will be able to let them know immediately if something happens and so Jay knows that we’re all here for him.”

Will could only nod. He admired the loyalty and the love all of them had for Jay and for each other. It made it easier to accept that his brother was putting his life on the line every time he stepped out his door knowing that he had these people watching his back.

“Did you manage to get hold of Mouse?” He asked after a while.

“He wasn’t anywhere that could be reached by phone, but I think Sergeant Platt left a message with one of his superior officers.”

Will nodded. There was little more he could do at that point, about Jay, about Mouse – about anything.

“Hey, Will?” He looked up at Hailey but her eyes remained focused on Jay; both her hands holding onto Jay’s, her cheek resting on his bruised knuckles. “He’s really going to be okay, right?” she asked, her voice sounding small and fearful, unlike the straightforward and fearless Hailey he’d come to know.

Will readjusted his position in his chair, leaning over to rest his elbows on the edge of the mattress and reaching up to stroke Jay’s hair with his right hand. “He is,” he said, trying to sound much more assured than he felt on the inside. _I hope so_, but that last bit he didn’t say aloud.

Jay was the one with the tough fight ahead of him and there was little more they could do beyond being helpless spectators. All they could at that point was wait.

**_tbc_.**


	5. The Investigation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the chapters I honestly enjoyed writing the most. I don't know what it is about this particular voice that came pretty easily, but I do hope you all enjoy it as much as I do.

Hank Voight wasn’t a person to be trifled with. The few that made the mistake either ended up regretting it, or ended up at the bottom of the marina.

No one messed with Hank Voight, those were the facts, but more so than that, no one messed with his _family_. His team counted as part of his family and the perp, whoever he was and wherever he was, had just made the worst mistake of his life by going after one of Sergeant Voight’s own.

After Justin’s death; after Erin left; after Olive left taking his only grandson and the last link he had to Justin, Voight felt like he’d been in limbo without an anchor. Erin had been his anchor, just as Justin and Daniel had been but they were all gone from his life. The only thing he had left was his team and Jay was a vital member of that team. Maybe more so than most. Al was his oldest and closest friend. There was no one alive that he loved and trusted more than he did Al. Antonio and Jay were a close second, but even Antonio had his own code that he abided by, a moral code that that more often than not clashed with the way Voight was partial to doing things. He could trust Antonio with his life and he did, but he could also count on Antonio to do the right thing whether or not the right thing aligned with the _Voight way_, as Erin liked to call it.

But Jay… Jay was an enigma that even Hank was still trying to figure out. Just like Antonio, he lived by a code of right and wrong that was purely his own; he was trustworthy and loyal but not blindly so. Also just like Antonio, Voight trusted him with his life. But unlike Antonio, Voight knew that despite whatever misgivings he might have, Jay was willing to do the extreme to get the job done. He was more like Voight than Antonio in that sense.

He didn’t speak of his time with the Rangers often, but whatever he did over there, whatever had happened to him and Mouse over there, it had left visible but well-hidden scars that would never go away. Voight could see the cracks in him clearly because they were the same cracks he saw in himself when he looked in a mirror.

In going after Jay, it was like the perp had gone after Justin or Erin or Daniel and the retribution he was going to exact was going to be almighty.

Almost the entire day after the attack, while they were waiting on news about Jay’s condition in surgery, they’d spent combing every inch of Jay’s apartment for anything that would lead them in the right direction.

Voight was appreciative of the amount of time Casey spent giving them a minute by minute account of what happened from the moment they stepped into Jay’s apartment and until the time they loaded him into the back of the ambulance, and the effort the Lieutenant was putting into helping them piece together what happened. Casey was smart and intuitive. In another life, Voight thought he would have made a great cop. He wasn’t all that surprised by Casey’s willingness though, considering the history between them; Jay always left a good impression on every person he met which was the complete opposite of Voight, who didn’t care whether people liked him so much as feared him.

From the moment they entered Jay’s apartment, Voight could feel his anger mounting gradually. The sight of the familiar apartment in disarray and the blood splattered room was nothing compared to the mental image of Jay being handcuffed in the bathroom, helpless, left to die a slow and painful death.

Burgess was the one who found the gun – Jay’s gun – under the bed, so far back it must have been kicked there during the struggle.

Atwater was the one who found the knife – a tactical combat knife still covered from tip to hilt with Jay’s blood.

Voight didn’t think it was necessary to burden Jay’s father and brother with the gruesome details when they made their way back to the hospital later that day, especially not after finding out the extent of Jay’s injuries from the doctor.

Voight wanted to punch a wall, or a person – preferably the son of a bitch who was responsible for killing those people and putting Jay in the hospital in the first place but nevertheless he reigned in his anger, he kept the beast inside him in check; there would be time for violence and retribution later. That moment inside the hospital, it was all about Jay.

The minute he stepped off the elevator onto the floor that housed the ICU, Voight was assaulted by memories of the last time he was brought there – the day his son died. It made him feel sick to the core and finally laying his eyes on Jay in that hospital bed did nothing to ease the ill feeling in his gut so he kept his distance.

He hated to admit it but he was afraid.

Hank Voight wasn’t afraid of a lot, but he was afraid of death. Not _dying_ – he could stare down the barrel of a gun without breaking a sweat; but just death. Other people dying. People he loved and cared about dying. He’d lost his wife and only son to death and he didn’t think he could bear losing another person he cared about to it all over again.

He was still a cop. He still had a job to do, especially when the stakes had been raised so high. But he knew Jay was in good hands with his brother and father there at that hospital. He knew Sharon was there to keep an eye on him and make sure that he got the best care and the best treatment with the best doctors and nurses they had available.

He left with the team after making a promise to Jay and his family that the guy responsible wasn’t going to get away with it; that payback was going to be slow and painful. The last one was a promise he didn’t need to say aloud but one that was silently accepted by everyone in the room.

He left Hailey behind because he knew she wouldn’t have been able to get her mind off Jay long enough to concentrate. That she wouldn’t have been able to stop wondering whether he was still okay, whether he was still alive for even a minute of her being away from his side. So he ordered her to stay, otherwise she would have protested, because she was still cop and like the rest of them, she wanted to find the person who attacked her partner and hurt him so badly. He left Al in charged because he knew that was where his presence was needed the most.

It was later that evening; everyone was convened in the bullpen including a handful of uniformed officers and Sergeant Platt who’d come up on their own time to help with the investigation when his phone rung suddenly and an unfamiliar number flashed across the screen.

His gruff greeting of, “Voight,” was answered by quite possible the last person on earth he expected to be calling his number.

The familiar soft drawl saying just the single word, _‘Sergeant,’_ was enough to give away the identity of the caller.

“Mouse?”

_‘What happened to Jay?’_ The question was serious, by-passing any unnecessary greeting or acknowledgement of Voight’s own question, not that Voight could really blame him. So he explained what happened, at least everything they knew about what happened. He gave a rough rundown of the case and the victims – everything they’d learned leading up to Jay’s attack, just because it was Mouse and Jay trusted him and because of that Voight did too. Maybe a new pair of eyes and a fresh mind would be able to figure out what had been eluding them all about the case.

Voight didn’t ask particulars about Mouse’s own situation or how he was able to even find a phone to call back. He’d come to accept Mouse as as much an enigma as Jay. There was a reason they were best friends and stayed best friends even after coming back from war.

Mouse was gone almost as suddenly and elusively as he’d appeared once Voight finished explaining the case; leaving him to listen to the static dial tone wondering whether it had been just a figment of his own imagination.

He knew he’d be hearing back from him soon and until then they still had a case to solve. But to Voight, their job was the easy part.

Jay was the one doing the hard part – staying alive.

\--

All of them worked well into the night, even Voight’s order for them to go home and recharge had fallen on deaf ears. The couple that actually left hadn’t done so to go home but to check on Jay at the hospital.

Voight was the last one to leave the office and decided to follow suit, expecting most of them to have finally gone home after finding out Jay’s condition, but he was only half surprised when he found all of them lounging in the waiting room in various positions and various states of consciousness on his way up to the ICU.

A silent look between him and Al was the only conversation needed before he was off, leaving the rest of them to their devices knowing that Al was more than capable of roping everyone back in if they got too agitated over the case.

It was just Will in Jay’s room when he got there; Dr. Manning having taken his dad home to pick up some things and Hailey who’d been dragged off by Burgess and Ruzek to get some fresh air.

“How’s he doing?” he asked from the door as a way of announcing himself.

Will seemed startled by the sudden noise but composed himself quickly. “He’s hanging in there,” he said, clearing his throat; his voice hoarse like he was speaking with a mouth full of cotton. Voight didn’t think he’d spoken a word to anyone since he first stepped into Jay’s room that morning. He’d moved over to Jay’s other side and was sitting there with his chin propped up on his knuckle and his free hand holding Jay’s. 

“He’s a tough kid,” Voight said, approaching the empty spot by the bed, his clenched fists tucked securely into the pocket of his pants.

“It’s hard,” said Will, straightening up slightly but keeping a firm grip on Jay’s limp hand, “Seeing him like this. I’m a doctor; I should be used to situations like this and seeing… seeing people’s grief – I’ve brought a fair share of that myself to other people’s families.”

“I get it. It’s never easy when your job involves your family or the people you love. I don’t think it ever gets easier. But then again, the day it gets easier – the day you stop caring and being affected by it is probably the day you should quit that job all together,” he said. “Your job, our job –” he motioned to both him and Jay, “– Casey’s job – it all hinges on how much we still care and how far we’re willing to go to protect those we love. For me, my family is this squad and the people of this city and I’ll stop at nothing to find and bring to justice the people who go after those I care about. And at the very top of that list is the son of a bitch that did this.”

Will didn’t seem to be able find any words to respond to his impassioned speech. He just nodded. “You do _whatever_ you have to do, sergeant. Just promise me you’ll get him.” he said. The vehemence in his voice startled even Voight whose reputation came about his willingness to do absolutely anything to get his man.

“You have my word.” They welcomed the silence that returned soon after. Voight reached over to clasp Jay on the shoulder, patting it twice before withdrawing his hand. “By the way, Mouse returned our call earlier,” he said, “I’ve brought him up to speed on Jay’s condition and about the case.”

“What did he say?” asked Will, his attention piqued by the mention of the name.

“Not much, which was surprising for such a chatty guy,” he said with a fond chuckle. “He mainly just listened and hung up without barely saying two words once I finished.”

Will’s lips actually curled into something resembling a smile. “Mouse has been Jay’s friend for years but I barely even know the guy outside his name and the fact that they were in the Rangers together. I think Jay mentioned once that he was accepted to MIT but turned it down to enlist. Jay was pretty hammered at the time so I don’t know how true that was but – it doesn’t seem that farfetched does it?”

Voight was genuinely impressed, whether or not it was true. He always knew Mouse was smart, smarter than the average military tech, maybe even smarter than Jin but people tended to overlook his intellect because he always appeared slightly too wired and a little too jumpy. Looking back on it now, Voight thought that might have been deliberate on Mouse’s part. He was reminded of the day the Mouse was taken hostage under the roof of their own house. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone with a gun to their head be as calm and collected as Mouse was through the whole thing. Not to mention the way he’d disarmed the man so easily and so effortlessly; Voight had no doubt in his mind that Mouse could have done so at any point but only chose not to. The more he learned about Mouse and subsequently, the more he learned about Jay, the more questions it brought up rather than answered.

Never underestimate an opponent, but make them underestimate you. That’s what his father used to tell him. Perhaps he had sorely underestimated Mouse after all.

“No, it doesn’t seem that farfetched at all,” he said finally.

“Hey, sergeant,” said Will after a pause. “Would you mind staying a while? I guess… I guess I could use the company.”

Voight managed a smile at the request, reaching back for the plastic chair that had been pushed aside. “I’d be glad to,” he said, taking seat. He leaned back, stretching a little and heard the sound of the joints of his spine cracking back into alignment. He reached a hand out and placed it over Jay’s forearm; one of the few parts of his body that didn’t have needles stuck into it and wires leading in and out, and he kept it there. Offering the silent comfort through the touch and hoping that Jay could somehow sense that they were there, that they were all rooting for him to pull through. Not just his family, but also his squad, his friends and coworkers and even the guys over at the firehouse – he’d only just responded to a text from Chief Boden asking about Jay’s condition before he reached the ICU.

“You hang in there, Halstead,” he said, “You hear me? That’s an order.”

He was probably just imagining it, but he felt a barely noticeable twitch under his hand when he finished. He took it as affirmative.

Jay remained in a deep sleep and he and Will just sat back and waited.

\--

Hailey and Pat’s return relieved him of his vigil, though he lingered around for a while longer when the doctor returned to check on Jay’s condition. It was both a relief and a disappointment to learn that nothing had changed. Jay’s condition wasn’t deteriorating, but he wasn’t improving as much as the doctors had hoped he would either. His blood pressure was still unstable and both Will and the doctor seemed concerned by the pink tinge they could detect in his catheter.

But he was still hanging in there and Voight chose to take that as a positive.

It was him and Will trudging towards the waiting room once the doctor finished his assessment and Will had been unceremoniously evicted from the room by the combined effort of Hailey and Dr. Manning with support by his own dad.

Al was waiting for them when they entered the room.

The rest of the squad had gone back to the station to resume the investigation and Al stayed behind to give Voight quite possibly the first piece of good news they’d had in days.

“Troy Hargreaves is awake,” he drawled, “And good morning. You both look like crap.”

Voight didn’t know what he’d do without Al and his reliable lack of urgency and odd sense of humour.

It was just as well that Will was with them at the time considering that he was the doctor that had originally treated the vic when he was brought in before what ultimately happened, _happened_.

The good news unfortunately turned out to be another dead end. Mr. Hargreaves wasn’t able to tell them much of anything about the attacker other than the fact that he was a male, at least six-foot-two and strong – exceptionally strong considering he’d managed to overpower two combat veterans with what seemed to be relative ease and get the drop on Jay, one of the best fighters Voight thought he’d ever seen. However it did confirm their suspicion that the perp was looking for someone because Mr. Hargreaves mentioned the man muttering the phrase ‘where is he?’ over and over again, so obsessively like he was tweaked up on something. It might have explained his unnatural strength as well as far as they could tell.

On subject of Jay and the perp’s two earlier victims, Voight suddenly remembered that Mr. Hargreaves been a member of the military at some point as well. They’d followed that lead early on in the case but ended up with a whole lot of nothing. None of the victims had anything in common with each other and besides Yvonne Miller; the ones who’d served had done completely different tours in completely different countries. They didn’t know each other, they didn’t work with each other, they didn’t hang out at the same place nor have friends in common.

Ultimately the only thing they did have in common was the attack.

However, four of the five victims having military backgrounds was too much of a coincidence to be just that. And to Voight, if something seemed too good to be a coincidence, it probably was.

Almost like he knew they were there or he could somehow sense that his former sergeant was about to take out his frustration on an unfortunate piece of hospital furniture that just happened to be there; Voight’s phone rang and the private caller that flashed across the ID was indicative as to who it was.

“Mouse,” said Voight immediately when he answered. “Tell me you have something.”

Voight didn’t know if Mouse even had the means or the opportunity to do anything with the information he’d relayed, but somehow his gut told him that because it had to do with _Jay_, Mouse would have _made_ an entirely new path if he hadn’t been able to find one available.

_‘Where are you?’_ he asked, his voice deeper than usual and uncharacteristically stern and straight to the point with no empty chatter and redundant explanations in between.

“With Troy Hargreaves, the last vic that was attacked before Jay.”

_‘Good,’ _said Mouse, it was that relieved sense of self-assurance that really convinced Voight that Mouse knew exactly when and where they were when he called._ ‘I need you to ask him, when he served, did he go by his name Troy, or by a nickname?’_

The request wasn’t one that Voight was expecting and he was left momentarily taken aback. “You need me to ask what?”

_‘Please, sergeant. I know what I’m doing.’_

Voight shared a confused look with Al who mouthed a silent ‘what’s going on?’ which he left unanswered before turning back to the vic. “Mr. Hargreaves, this is going to sound like a strange question, but I need to ask you; when you were in the army, did you go by Troy or did you go by a nickname?”

The man looked about as taken aback as Voight expected. “A… A nickname?” he answered hesitantly, looking towards Will and Al as if seeking assurance that at least two of the people in that room were still sane.

“He went by a nickname,” he said into the receiver. Still trying to figure out what and where the question could possibly be leading and whether he’d done the right thing by bring Mouse into the fold. Jay’s attack had obviously shaken him up.

_‘Ask him if the name he went by was Jax.’_

This time Voight didn’t even question it, he just turned back to the man. “Was it Jax?”

If Voight had any doubt whatsoever that Mouse knew what he was doing, the doubt fizzled immediately away when the man’s eyebrows shot up and he looked even more taken aback than when Voight had started the bizarre line of questioning. His answer was another question but it was enough to confirm Mouse’s query. “H-How’d you know?”

Voight immediately straightened up. “Mouse, that’s affirmative,” he said. By this time Al and Will had both walked up to him and were sharing a confused look with each other. “What’s going on? What did you find?”

_‘Just one last question, sergeant. I promise I’ll explain everything.’_ Voight found himself nodded wordlessly, though it occurred to him that Mouse wouldn’t have been able to see his response. He just grunted his agreement. _‘Ask him whether he met Hubert Harris or anyone with the last name Harris at any point during his enlistment.’_

Voight felt like he could have answered that question himself. The digging they’d done had brought up no links between Hargreaves and Harris; Harris was retired from active duty by the time Hargreaves enlisted. However he trusted Mouse and he trusted that it wasn’t for nothing.

“Do you know, or have you at any point had contact with a fellow soldier named Hubert Harris?”

Mr. Hargreaves looked to be contemplating carefully and seemed relieved that he was finally being asked a question that seemed to make some sense. “No,” he said and Voight sighed expectedly. He was about to relay the man’s answer to Mouse when his face changed, almost like a thought had all of a sudden occurred to him. “But –” he trailed off into a pause for a beat, though succeeding in attracting all the attention to him, “Actually – I don’t know if this helps at all – but during boot camp, we had a substitute drill sergeant named Harris – we only had him for maybe a few weeks. I don’t know if his name was Hubert; he was just known around the camp as Jackhammer Harris.”

Voight always got a clenching feeling deep inside his gut whenever something was starting to fall into place. It wasn’t something that could be explained or a credible proof to use in court, but it always happened when they were getting close to a breakthrough.

He had that feeling right then.

“Mouse, he said he had a drill sergeant named Jackhammer Harris.” His eyes found Al’s and both of them shared a look; he could tell that Al had the same exact feeling he did.

Mouse said something unintelligible from the other end of the line. He could hear the sound of him shuffling around erratically, his breathing coming out fast like he’d started running. _‘Get back to the office. I’ll call back in 30 mikes to debrief the team.’_ And with that the call ended.

“What’s going on? What did Mouse say?” asked Al.

“We need to get back to the office,” he said. “Now.”

“Is everything okay, detective?” Asked Mr. Hargreaves.

“We’ll let you know if we need anything else.” And with that he was out the door. Both Al and Will had to jog to catch up with as he trotted with a purpose towards the exit.

“What’s going on, sergeant?” asked Will.

“I don’t know yet. But get back to your brother,” he stopped walking and turned around to place a hand on Will’s shoulder. “Stay with him and let us know if anything – absolutely _anything_, happens. Leave this part to us.”

His words and his tone were meant to convey that there was no room for discussion and he succeeded. He left Will Halstead in his periphery as he walked out of the hospital into his car, Al slipping into the passenger seat without demanding any further explanation, and they both sped off towards the 21st.

** _Tbc._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story wasn’t actually intended to be a case-fic, but I just couldn’t write a whump fic without having something resembling a coherent plot. I tried my best to write something that was plausible enough, but please feel free to suspend you belief as you continue reading. I just got an idea and I ran with it and I’m genuinely not really sure how well it came out.


	6. The Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so behind replying to the comments (something I always do) but don’t think I don’t appreciate every single one of them because I do genuinely. Sometimes it’s what sets back the updates because I like to reply to comments before I update but I’ve been a bit busy lately. So if I don’t reply don’t think it isn’t noticed or that I take it for granted which I absolutely don’t. I love and appreciate every single comment as I do every single commenter and reader.
> 
> **Tag: Trigger Warning, Implied Perp Suicide**

“What do their names have to do with anything?” Asked Ruzek for the third time in the last twenty minutes or so they spent pacing up and down the bullpen waiting for Mouse to call back.

“It must have to do with a great deal, Mouse seemed sure about what he found out,” said Kim, playing the peacekeeper because Voight didn’t appear even in the slightest mood to deal with any sort of second guessing by the rest of them.

They’d spent the last ten minutes or so since he and Al arrived trying to see whatever it was Mouse had seen in the names; reading the names of the victims over and over again, in their heads and out loud. All of them except for the first victim, Yvonne Miller, had last names that began with H, Jay included. However, with the revelation that Hubert Harris and Troy Hargreaves both went by a nickname when they were in the military, it meant that all the victims went by the initials J. H.

Everything was falling into place and becoming more confusing at the same time.

Then exactly thirty minutes since Voight answered the call in the hospital, his phone rang and the camera icon that flashed across the screen signalled that a video call was coming through.

Ruzek was on his feet immediately, his fingers flying across the keyboard of the computer just as Voight swiped to answer.

“Mouse, I’m bringing you up on the screen. The whole team’s here,” said Voight and not two seconds later, the familiar face popped up on the wide screen monitor atop Antonio’s desk.

The face staring back at them was both familiar and completely unrecognizable at the same time. His hair was slightly shorter than the last time they saw him but was still longer than the regulated military haircut, though no one even questioned how Mouse was able to get away with it. He was decked out in full tactical gear, minus his helmet and a quick view of his background showed that he was definitely not at a basecamp. It really was testament to Mouse’s skill and the friendship between him and Jay that he’d managed to do what he had and find out what he could from wherever he was and likely from under the noses of his superiors.

He was seated at what seemed to be a makeshift workstation because his eyes were focused on the screen in front of him but not making eye contact with any of them; they could hear the sound of the keyboard clicking almost at light speed and the way Mouse’s pupils were moving from side to side following whatever he was reading on the screen.

_‘I did a background search on the names of the other victims you gave me,’_ he started without so much as a hello. It took the team a moment to get used to this stoic, no nonsense version of the happy-go-lucky Mouse they’d worked with for so long. But Voight who’d been in contact with him twice over the course of the last twelve hours had become accustomed to the change. He rather liked this version if he had to be honest. _‘At first glance it looks like they have nothing in common, but at the same time, everything in common: their military service. But it was Jay–’ _his voice hitched momentarily before he swallowed– _‘It was Jay that tied everything together._

_‘Jay had a tag with his initials, JH, on his helmet when he was over here which gave me the idea where to start looking. I found some archived pictures of Troy Hargreaves back when he was deployed that showed that he had the same sort of tag.’_

“Question?” interrupted Ruzek, raising his hand like he was seated in a classroom facing a teacher instead of a police bullpen investigating a serious crime. “How’d you figure out Hargreaves went by a nickname? And how did you know what it even was?”

Mouse’s fingers stopped typing for a moment and his eyes finally locked onto Ruzek. The look on his face was one of bemusement like he couldn’t believe none of them had figured out what he’d managed to figure out. Voight wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was intrigued by the whole scenario and by this version of Mouse that seemed like a completely different man from a completely different lifetime.

_‘Troy?’_ he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. _‘Ajax? – Jax. It was a shot in the dark really but I guess it paid off.’_

Voight would have laughed had the situation not been so grim.

The revelation dawned on the rest of the team at almost the same time.

“Damn,” said Atwater, which Voight thought was an appropriate response.

_‘It’s not something that’s immediately obvious but it was a lead I ran with because I knew of Jackhammer Harris and the fact that three of the four people involved shared the same initials was too much of a coincidence. Hargreaves was just a hunch that turned out to be right.’_

“What about Yvonne Miller?” asked Antonio, “How does she tie into all of this?”

_‘Yvonne Miller was the mistake in this case, or rather, the catalyst of everything that happened.’_ Mouse stood up and disappeared from view for a moment without explanation leaving the team to stew in their confusion and the questions they still had running through their heads.

Voight stood back, allowing Mouse to do his thing and allowing the team to ask the questions they needed to ask. If the last twelve hours had taught him anything, it was to stop underestimating Mouse’s intellect.

Mouse reappeared in the screen a moment later, retaking his seat. He opened his mouth to speak before being distracted by something else off screen. The team heard another voice off screen calling for ‘Gerwitz’, saying that they were moving out, and Mouse leaning out of frame to yell out that he was almost done. He reappeared immediately after looking no more hurried than the last time he was on screen.

“Everything okay, Mouse?” asked Al.

Mouse looked up at Al, a small self-assured half-smirk curling at his lips, giving the squad a glimpse of the old Mouse they used to know. _‘It’s cool, detective,’_ he drawled. _‘They ain’t gonna leave without their comm-guy.’_

None of them seemed as cool about it as Mouse. They weren’t schooled on the procedures of the military like Mouse or Al, but they did know that it was strict and to see Mouse being so nonchalant about it was slightly worrisome for the man in question.

“Are you sure you won’t get into trouble for this?” asked Voight, finally speaking as he pushed himself up off the table he was leaning against and approached the monitor.

Mouse’s smirk immediately dropped and it was like a wall went up behind his eyes. _‘This is for Jay,’_ he said seriously. _‘Sergeant Ortiz knows how important he is to me and even if I do… it doesn’t matter. It’s for Jay.’_ The last part was spoken in such a tone it left no room for discussion.

“Alright,” said Voight with an understanding nod. “Go ahead.”

Mouse continued like the last few minutes hadn’t even happened. _‘Yvonne Miller wasn’t supposed to be the first victim – in fact, she wasn’t supposed to be a victim at all. But she ended up being the cause for the other murders and the attack on Hargreaves and Jay – and it all happened just because the perp found the wrong person._

_‘Miller is her maiden name. She went back to it after she divorced her husband who a few years later, unfortunately took his own life.’_

“Mouse, we’re still not following,” said Antonio tiredly, massaging his temples.

_‘What was her husband’s name?’_ asked Mouse, glancing up to meet their eyes.

It was like time halted for a beat in that moment; until Kim scrambled off the desk she was perched on to reach for the case folder that held the information about their first victim. Her eyes scanned through the information on the papers. When she finally stopped, it was like the breath was driven from her lungs and she looked up to face the rest of the team. “Jason Hill. Her husband’s name was Jason Hill.”

“Jesus Christ,” said Voight. The rest of the team went down a more expletive road to express their feelings. “You mean to tell me that this was a case of mistaken identity? That all those people were killed – that Jay almost died just because the perp found the wrong person?”

_‘I think there’s more to it than that, Sergeant. I can’t tell you who he is, but I think I have an idea where to start looking. I just sent you a file,’_ he said. _‘I… I need to go. My team’s waiting on me. ’_

Voight approached Antonio’s desk, bending down, propping himself up on his arms to better face Mouse on the monitor. “Thank you,” he said, hoping the sincerity of his gratitude came through. “I know it couldn’t have been easy to do what you did from where you are, and I know it’s not easy being so far away knowing your friend’s so hurt and not be able to be by his side, but you really came through for us. You came through for Jay, Mouse, you really did. He’ll be proud to know that we got the guy thanks to you.”

_‘Just promise you will, sergeant. I… I probably won’t be able to get in contact with you for a while so… tell… tell Jay I wish I was there – tell him not to give up and that I’ll contact him as soon as I can.’_

Voight nodded. “Rest assured, Mouse, this guy is as good as caught. You stay safe, you hear? I’ll see you when you get back here and buy you a drink.”

Mouse’s smile was sincere. _‘I’ll await the day, Sergeant Voight, sir. Thank you.’_

After a short goodbye to the rest of the team, Mouse was gone.

Ruzek immediately headed for his computer to check the file Mouse had sent while everyone hung back and waited with bated breath as he looked and finally, just like Kim’s realization had come with a shocked exhale, Ruzek’s reaction came as an impressed laugh. “Tell me again why we let the guy go in the first place?” he asked to no one in particular before turning the monitor around so that the rest of the team could see whatever it was he was looking at.

On the screen was a photograph of a group of soldiers with two of the faces circled out in red. They immediately recognized a younger version of Hubert Harris and the other person they assume was the aforementioned Jason Hill. 

“That’s not all,” said Ruzek with a shit-eating grin, clicking something on the keyboard which changed the photo to a new one; this one with just two people. One was Jason Hill and the other was a male, approximately six-foot-two who looked like he could have taken on the entire squad without breaking a sweat. Their arms circling each other’s shoulders wearing identical grins and with an easy aura that can only described as friendly. “Can I be the first to go: Yahtzee?”

At that point Voight didn’t care if Ruzek wanted to get up on the table and do a strip tease – he preferred if he didn’t – because they finally got their guy. What Mouse said about it being more than what meets the eye rung in Voight’s mind as he continued surveying the face looking back at him and the uniform they both we wearing so proudly. But to Voight things were only complicated if they made it complicated and as far as he was concerned, there was nothing simpler. The perp, whoever he was and whatever he did in his past, killed three people in cold blood, seriously injured two others including one of the people Voight cared about the most, it was simple math. An eye for an eye.

“Just this once,” he said, locking eyes with Ruzek before turning around and heading back to his office.

His door was halfway closed before he heard excited whoop of, “_Yahtzee!_” and even Hank Voight couldn’t keep his own small smile at bay.

But now they had work to do.

\--

In the end, there was no celebration – there were no pats on the back or offers of congratulations because exactly like Mouse had said, there really was more to the story than they expected.

The perp turned out to be a fellow soldier and one of Jason Hill’s closest friends. He’d also been one of the people involved in the mission to rescue him when he was taken hostage by enemy combatants when they were deployed. Unlike Jason, Jay and the rest of the men he’d sadly ended up killing; his return to the motherland hadn’t been smooth sailing – done in the throes of alcohol and pills and any sort of tranquilizer he could find.

He’d gone to Jason Hill’s house for help and found his wife instead and discovered the unfortunate fate that had befallen his friend and in his delirious, drug fuelled state had just… snapped. Every subsequent person he sought out with the initials JH, found through research through the database of former military personnel and social media both, who wasn’t the person he was looking for ended up being another enemy in his eyes – an enemy that posed threat to him and his squad. He killed those people to protect himself and his team, but the people who died just died for nothing.

Yvonne Miller was an accident. Jackhammer Harris was premeditated – not the killing, but the meeting; and everyone else, including Jay, just had the misfortune of having the same initials as the man he was looking for.

They had been right when they said that Jay didn’t go down without a fight. It turned out that Jay had inflicted just as much damage on his assailant as had been inflicted on him. The only difference was that Jay had been shot and stabbed in the process which has ultimately been what felled him.

They found the perp bleeding out in an alley not far from Jay’s place; by that point he’d been powering through on pure adrenaline and had barely anything left in the tank by the time they arrived. In the end it wasn’t any of their bullets that ended his rampage but his own. In the end, in the split second before it was over, the man realized what he’d done and it was the look in his eye that told Voight that he knew he’d never be able to live with himself.

The case ended just as tragically as it began but without any semblance of closure they were seeking.

The perpetrator was dead but there was no payback to be had. There was no justice served that day and Jay’s fight wasn’t yet over.

Slowly, one by one they dispersed from the scene, heads hung low and shoulders heavy. It wasn’t the conclusion they were looking for but it was the one they got.

The only thing left to do was hope that through it all, Jay would pull through. In the end, that was the only bright light at the end of tunnel they could look forward to.

And so they made their way back to the hospital to be with their teammate and friend – to be with their brother and hope that there was at least one positive outcome in such a tragic case.

** _tbc._ **


	7. The Arrest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... what a humongous letdown was that episode? The saddest part is that I'm disappointed, but not surprised. I'm more disappointed at myself for getting my hopes up though and thinking that this time would be any different.
> 
> Oh well, I guess we'll always have fanfics. So here you go. I'm going back to bed to wallow now and chastise myself for being so naive.

Will hadn’t slept in what felt like days. How could he? Every time he closed his eyes the only thing he could see was the sight of Jay bleeding to death inside his own bathroom in his own home, restrained with his own handcuffs and tied down like an animal about to be put down. The only thing he could hear was the wailing of the monitors and the single steady beep of a flat lining heart and the sight of his brother dying in his nightmares.

He ended up being startled awake with dampness in his eyes and a renewed fear of having to go back to sleep.

He couldn’t sleep until he knew for certain that Jay was going to be okay. He _wouldn’t_.

Connor came by often to check on him, to check on all of them – more than he needed to and more than what was required of him even as a doctor. Will knew it was because he cared. He cared because Jay was important to Will. He cared because Connor was a great doctor and an even greater friend. Connor cared because he knew Will would do the exact same thing if their places had been switched and it was Connor’s family lying there injured, and he would have been right.

It was him and Hailey at Jay’s side, with his dad alternating between sitting with them waiting and pacing in and out of the room anxiously.

His dad was a stoic man; he’d always been one and he kept his distance from his children for reasons Will couldn’t even fathom but Will could tell that seeing Jay so injured, seeing him so vulnerable scared his dad. But he couldn’t focus on whatever was troubling his dad at that moment, it wasn’t about his dad, it wasn’t about him or their problems; it was about Jay and Jay needed him to be there, he needed him to be level-headed and he needed him to be strong and that was exactly what Will intended on being.

Sergeant Voight and the Intelligence team appeared at the door when Will was least expecting them and it took only one look from the sergeant to let Will know that it was done; that it was over. But from the expression of their faces and the heaviness he could see clearly weighing down on their shoulders, Will knew that it being over didn’t mean that anything had been resolved.

Hailey got to her feet and immediately walked over to Antonio who gave her a firm hug, no words were exchanged between any of them until Sergeant Voight stepped up to the space at Jay’s bedside that Hailey had vacated. He reached out to place the palm of his hand on Jay’s forehead, his thumb gently stroking the bruised skin above his brow before he bent down.

“We got him,” he said, “You hear me, Jay? We got the son of a bitch that did this. Mouse came through for you. He’s the reason we managed to crack this case. It’s over. We’ve done our jobs, all of us – the team, the docs, even Mouse; now we’re counting on you to do the hard part. You got that? You need to live; you need to get through this. We’re all here for you. Alright? You’ve got to fight this.”

Will couldn’t tear his eyes way from the sergeant’s face when he spoke. He could see so many different emotions flashing across it but the most obvious one was grief. It was the face of a father worrying about his son – he saw brief glimpses of it on his own dad’s face but he knew his father, he knew he hid his emotions well even under terrible circumstances.

He knew the sergeant had lost his son in that hospital, on that very floor so he could understand the man’s grief, he just didn’t realize that the sergeant and Jay had that sort of paternal relationship.

But then again, he didn’t think the man realized it himself either.

“Sergeant,” he called out after the silence became too thick.

The other members had convened around Jay’s bed the same way they’d done the first time they stepped into the room. Ruzek had his hand on Jay’s leg and was patting it comfortingly, like he wanted Jay to know that they were there – or that he wanted the reassurance that Jay was real and that he was there.

“We got him,” the man repeated when he looked up to meet his gaze. Will could see that his eyes had a peculiar sheen that reflected the florescent lights above their heads.

Will exhaled once and closed his eyes. He opened them a moment later to meet the sergeant’s eyes that were still on him. “Thank you.”

Sergeant Voight nodded his acknowledgement, though he didn’t appear even the least bit comforted by the outcome for reasons Will couldn’t fathom. But then again, there was a reason he wasn’t cop. He was always more about what was right in front of his eyes, statistics and the facts. Diagnosing an illness was about what he could see in front of him.

Being a cop and dealing with people was an entirely different matter. That’s why Jay was always the more intuitive and empathetic of the two; Will dealt with facts that were usually cut and dried while Jay dealt with people and situations that constantly changed.

Will realized that maybe he didn’t want to know the small details, at least not yet, not when Jay was still fighting for his life because of some stranger had a problem.

Slowly the occupants of the room filtered out one by one. Ruzek and Atwater said their words of encouragement and Kim plated a kiss on Jay’s cheek just as Hailey had done. Antonio stayed a moment longer than the rest of them; his hand grasping Jay’s while he said what sounded like a prayer in Spanish that ended with him planting an almost intimate kiss on Jay’s forehead, as if he was channelling his own strength into him.

Detective Olinsky’s words however were the most peculiar. “I’ll have you know I crushed my fair share of grapes with no injuries or fatalities.” Will had no idea what that meant but then again the words weren’t meant for him. It obviously had meaning to the detective and Jay because the man’s smile was wistful as he continued gazing at Jay’s face before he finally stepped back. Patting Jay on the thigh before he walked out.

Sergeant Voight didn’t move from his position. All of a sudden he seemed to age a decade before Will’s very eyes. His shoulders were bowed and his brows were furrowed and he just looked exhausted beyond words.

It was Hailey who moved though Will had every intention of doing the same. She grabbed the plastic chair that had been pushed out of the way, and offered it to the sergeant who accepted it gladly; dropping himself heavily down into it immediately.

“Tell the team to go home,” he said, turning to Hailey, “There’s nothing more they can do here. Tell them it’s an order and anyone who disobeys will be bumped back to uniform before they can even get out the words ‘but, serge.’”

Hailey smiled at that. “Yes, sir,” she said. “But serge,” she added almost cheekily immediately after, “Will all due respect, I’m staying, you can bump me back to uniform any time, but I’m not leaving.”

Voight huffed though he didn’t seem particularly angered by her defiance. “Fine.”

Hailey locked eye with Will before she stepped out and Will returned to his place at Jay’s side opposite the sergeant.

“Did something else happen that I should know about?” he asked.

Voight eyed him intently before he sighed. “Something else did turn up about the case that we weren’t anticipating, but it’s nothing you or your dad need to concern yourselves with. It’s been handled.”

“Okay,” said Will simple. “I’ll take your word for it, sergeant.”

“You do that.”

“You said something about Mouse? What did he have to do with the case?”

“Everything,” said the sergeant, “Absolutely everything. Even with what we know about their friendship, I think we still vastly underestimated just how much they really care about each other.”

Will didn’t really understand what the sergeant was talking about but he didn’t necessarily disagree either. Mouse wasn’t a friend that he was actually introduced to, it was like one day he woke up and Mouse was just _there_, like he’d always been there and he never truly vacated that position at Jay’s side, even when he left for the other side of the world. It was like Will never saw that emptiness in Jay – a failure of him as a brother – until one day that emptiness was filled by Mouse’s presence.

Mouse leaving again was a blow to Jay that he never really successfully recovered from. He pretended to be okay in front of everyone and when anyone asked, but all of a sudden that emptiness was back and deeper and darker than ever; but this time instead of turning a blind eye to it and distancing himself Will tried his hardest to be the presence to fill that void. He’d never be Mouse, and he didn’t try to be, but he did try to be the brother Jay always needed and the one he should have been from day one.

He looked at his brother then, finding the exact same sight he’d been staring at hopefully for the last thirty-six hours or so – _had it really only been thirty-six hours_? It felt like a lifetime.

Jay was still completely lost to the world – completely unaware of their vigil at his bedside. Would he be surprised that they stayed? Would he appreciate it or be annoyed by it? Would he see it as a testament of their love or a feeling weakness and failure on his part? Will realized that he didn’t know. He realized that he really didn’t know that much about his little brother and that realization came with such an immense feeling of shame he didn’t know what to do with himself after.

One thing he did know about Jay was that he always put himself last; he always saw his pain as being secondary to everyone else’s. He always considered himself unworthy of other people’s care and concern and one of the reasons Will was so desperate for him to wake up was so that he’d see that he was wrong. He’d see that people did care about him. He’d see that even though he himself thought he was unworthy of concern that everyone around him thought otherwise.

He wanted Jay to realize that his pain did matter. His sadness and his trauma did matter and not just because of what he could do for others or what he brought to the table – it was because of the person he was: a good person, a loyal friend, a devoted son and the best brother anyone could have ever asked for.

It was hard looking at Jay; seeing his strong, kind hearted brother so helpless, so hurt and vulnerable. It was hard not being able to talk to him, to turn to him for advice and listen to him talking about Mouse and Erin and Hailey and his team; to hear him talk about how much he admired and at the same time, feared his sergeant. It was hard knowing that this was just the beginning of his struggles, the beginning of his pain. Even once he makes it through the trenches it was still a steep uphill battle.

Will knew that but at the same time he didn’t care, he didn’t care how long it took or difficult it was going to be, he vowed to be there for Jay this time every step of the way. Looking around the room at the people still keeping a constant vigil through their exhaustion; remembering how hard Connor and Ethan had worked to save Jay’s life, how hard they were still working even on their own time; remembering how hard Casey and fire-fighters and the paramedics had worked on keeping him alive and getting him to the hospital, how Casey had gone out of his way to help the team try to figure out what happened; remembering that Mouse had, through such a long distance while he himself was caught in the middle of his own war, done everything he could to help them catch the guy responsible – remembering all that, Will took comfort in knowing that at the very least he wasn’t alone. He had people he could count on. He had people who cared about Jay as much as he did; maybe even more so in Mouse’s case.

“Will, why don’t you try and grab some shut eye,” said the sergeant. Will only realized he’d been drifting off when his head snapped up startled. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“That’s okay, sergeant, I’m not tired,” he said, though his yawn obviously gave away his lie.

“Sleep,” said the man sternly. “That’s an order.”

The chuckle escaped before he could do anything to stop it. “Yes, sir,” he finally answered, already crossing his arms over the mattress, though one hand kept a firm grip on Jay’s. He lowered his head onto his folded arms, turning his head slightly to the side so he could still keep his sights on Jay. His thumb started stroking the back of Jay’s knuckles and didn’t stop until he finally drifted off to sleep.

\--

It was morning again by the time Will woke up, having underestimated how tired he really was. He didn’t think he’d gotten a decent amount of sleep since the moment Jay was wheeled into the emergency room. But somehow, knowing that Sergeant Voight was there keeping an eye on his brother in his stead, allowed him the peace of mind he so desperately needed.

His eyes opened to the sight of Jay and despite the circumstances, Will didn’t think there was anywhere else he’d rather be other than right there at Jay’s side.

Slowly his other senses started waking up along with him and he straightened up, stretching his limbs high above his head. He was unsurprised though touched to see Sergeant Voight still seated in the same exact position he’d been in when Will had drifted off and the fact that he’d kept his promise and watched over Jay while Will got the rest he needed.

The new figure in the room was that of Hailey’s, sleeping in a similar position to his by Jay’s legs, one arm flung over his thigh like she was adamant on keeping him close even in sleep.

His dad was sitting in a newly brought in plastic chair at the foot of the bed; arms crossed over his chest and eyes staring almost unseeing at Jay lying in the bed.

It was quite possible the strangest collection of people in room Will could have thought of but at the same time it felt… appropriate.

A handful of the ED staff passed through periodically through the morning; Mrs. Goodwin, Maggie, April, Ethan, even Chief Boden who’d come on behalf of the CFD to find out how Jay was doing.

Midmorning finally brought the appearance of Connor who strutted into the room with his usual gallant and polite greetings. Will knew his father didn’t like many people, but he could tell that he liked Connor a great deal.

And not that Will wasn’t already glad to see Connor, but he was even more pleased with the news he brought with him.

“I want to start weaning him off the sedation,” he said optimistically, “His condition hasn’t worsened over the last thirty-six hours and I’m optimistic. I’ve instructed the nurses to begin lowering the dosage and if everything goes well, I expect he’ll start coming around by this afternoon.”

“That’s great news, Connor! Really great,” said Will with a mixture of relief and excitement.

There was still whispers of concern nagging at him but he was just excited to be able to look into Jay’s eyes again; for Jay to see them all there by his side.

“Thanks so much, Dr. Rhodes,” said his dad, extending a hand to Connor in gratitude.

“No thanks needed, Mr. Halstead,” said Connor. “Jay’s not just a patient to me or anyone else in this hospital. He’s practically family; just like you and Will.”

Will was touched by the sincerity in Connor’s words and he had no doubt that every single word of it was the absolute truth.

A myriad of other doctors passed through after Connors visit. Will was disappointed to hear that Jay still wasn’t strong enough to be taken off the ventilator but he knew that it was a minor downside; at least he was alive and Will was looking forward to being able to talk to him again and see him awake.

It was about quarter past twelve, Sergeant Voight had just stepped out with Mrs. Goodwin and Hailey had taken his dad to the cafeteria to get something to drink when it happened. It was barely noticeable at first but Will was so attuned to everything about Jay at that point that it was like Jay had grabbed him by the shoulder and shaken him awake.

Jay’s fingers twitched, curling into a weak fist almost like he was trying to latch onto something to pull him out of the darkness. Will immediately reached for his hand, he regretted having even let go in the first place even if it was just for a few minutes.

“Jay?” he called out, getting to his feet and leaning over his brother, gripping his hand tight and holding it against his chest. “Jay, can you hear me? – Get Dr. Rhodes!” he called out to the passing nurse before turning his attention immediately back to his brother. His other hand reached over to stroke his forehead, running his fingers through his hair comfortingly.

Not even a minute passed before Connor half jogged into the room. “Is he awake?” he asked as he stepped up, eyes looking over the monitors and reaching for the Jay’s chart hanging at his bedside.

“Not yet, he started stirring a few minutes ago but his movements were sluggish; he hasn’t opened his eyes yet.”

“That’s not unexpected,” said Connor. He placed the chart aside; spoke something to the nurse beside him before turning back to Jay, leaning over him just as Will had done.

“Jay?” he called out. “Jay, can you hear me? It’s Connor. Jay? If you can hear me, squeeze my hand.” He nodded to Will who was still clutching Jay’s hand close to his chest. Both of them looked expectantly at the appendage, waiting for any sort of movement.

Slowly, Jay’s fingers curled weakly around Will’s hand; there was no strength to it but it was the strongest grip Will had ever felt.

“That’s great, Jay,” said Connor with a relieved smile. “Can you open your eyes? I know it’s hard and I know you’re confused, but I need you to open your eyes for me, Jay.”

Will said nothing; he could barely force himself to breathe in and out with the anticipation gripping his lungs in a vice. He was almost afraid to blink, fearful that he’d miss the sight of Jay opening his eyes for the first time.

They could see his eyes darting around under his closed lids. Slowly, weakly, like his own lids weighed a ton, they began to open; barely a fraction at first before they closed again. It took a few more seconds of urging on Connor’s part before they began to part again, this time opening more than halfway allowing Will to make out the familiar blue-green colour of his irises. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, his lids barely able to open more than half way and his gaze faraway.

“That’s good, Jay, that’s really good,” said Connor, pulling out his pen light and checking the reaction of Jay’s pupils. Will was slightly concerned by Jay’s lack of response to what Connor was doing, but Connor seemed pleased enough by the exam so Will kept his concern to himself. “Don’t try to speak, alright? You have a tube down your throat to help you breathe, I know it’s uncomfortable but we’ll try to have it out as soon as possible.

“Jay, can you follow my finger?” he said, holding his index finger up in front of Jay’s eyes and moving it from side to side.

However Jay seemed just as unresponsive to the command as he’d been by the eye exam and Will could feel his anxiety mounting.

“What’s going on?” he asked, looking to Connor for an answer. All his medical knowledge and experience seemed to have gone completely out the window.

“I think he’s just confused,” said Connor, pulling his hand away. Instead he reached over to place it on Jay’s shoulder, leaning down closer to him. “Jay… your brother’s here too. Will’s here. Can you look at Will for me?”

Will felt his heart skip a beat in that instance and immediately his eyes turned back to look at Jay. He didn’t realize that he was holding his breath until his lungs started burning forcing him to exhale.

“Jay,” he called out softly. “Jay, it’s Will. I’m right here, okay? Right here.”

Jay’s eyes that were staring unseeing at a spot just over they shoulders seemed to clear up in that instance before he blinked once – then twice and on the second time his gaze seemed to actively seek out the sound of Will’s voice.

Will maneuvered himself so that he was in Jay’s immediate line of sight because he still had on the neck brace that prevented him from turning his head to either side.

“Jay?” he called out again – and this time Jay’s eyes locked onto his.

Will almost cried with relief.

“Hey, bud,” he said, pulling out the smile that almost felt foreign to him by that point and forcing some semblance of composure into his voice before he spoke again. “It’s good to see you, man, I missed you. We all missed you. You really had us worried for a minute there.”

Jay didn’t break eye contact even once while Will was speaking though he made no show that any of what Will was saying had even registered. His eyes remained glassy though adamant to keep looking at Will almost like he was as afraid to break eye contact as Will.

Will noticed the way his Adam’s apple shifted like he was trying to form words but was unable to. Immediately he reached over to cup the side of Jay’s face, seeing the way his brows furrowed and the beeping of the heart monitor becoming faster. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Don’t try to speak yet, Jay. I know it’s uncomfortable but please just… just bear it for a while. We’ll get it out as soon as possible.”

Will’s words didn’t seem to be of much comfort to Jay but he stopped struggling regardless; closing his eyes as if to recalibrate his brain and allowing Will to channel his strength to him though the tight grip he still had on Jay’s hand.

“I just need to ask you a few questions, if that’s okay,” said Connor once Will glanced over at him, a signal to proceed with his examination. “Just blink your eyes once for yes, don’t blink, for no. Okay?”

Connor didn’t rush Jay or urge him on; he just waited patiently, looking around at the machines and conversing with the nurses while Jay dredged up the strength he needed to open his eyes again. Only when Jay seemed ready did Connor focus all his attention on him again. “Did you understand what I asked?”

_Blink_.

Connor smiled. “Good. That’s really good,” he said. “Do you know where you are, Jay?”

It took Jay a moment, not breaking eye contact before he blinked.

“Do you remember what happened?”

This time the pause was slightly longer and his eyes strayed from Connor’s face to look at Will. He didn’t blink.

Connor just nodded. “That’s fairly common,” he said.

Will just kept silent through the whole examination. Jay was his brother but it wasn’t his place. He knew Connor only had Jay’s best interest in mind and he trusted that Connor would do everything to help him.

“Just one last question: are you – Jay? Jay, are you alright?”

Will had _just_ glanced over at Mrs. Goodwin and Sergeant Voight across the hall making their way back to the room, when Connor stopped right in the middle of his question. His attention snapped back to find Connor bent down low over Jay, one hand across his forehead, his thumb pulling back his eyelid and shining a light into his eye with the other.

“What’s going on?” he asked, feeling the fear mounting in his gut.

“I’m not sure, his eyes just glazed over all of a sudden,” said Connor.

“Jay?” called out Will immediately. “Jay, come on, can you hear me?”

Everything happened all at once right before Will’s very eyes when the alarms on the life support machines went off without warning.

Jay’s brows furrowed; his eyes squeezed shut in agony and he started struggling against the ventilator, choking on the breathing tube and making a sound that Will didn’t think he’d be able to forget for a long time, if ever.

Will felt himself being pushed aside by the nurses and the other doctors that had entered Jay’s room. A warm presence at his side brought the appearance of Mrs. Goodwin who circled her arm around his waist and pulled him back, giving the other doctors and nurses room to work.

“What the hell happened?” yelled Voight before Will could even to form a coherent thought, stepping into the room looking more worried than Will had ever seen him.

Will couldn’t speak. He couldn’t remember how to form words. He should be in there, he should be helping. What was the point of all those years in medical school if he couldn’t even save his own brother? But Mrs. Goodwin’s arm held him firmly in place and he could do no more than watch as Connor worked to help his brother.

He didn’t understand what happened. He didn’t know what could have happened. Jay was fine just a moment ago and now – he couldn’t even comprehend what was happening. Connor was saying something about his blood pressure but Will couldn’t focus.

Then one of the nurses held up a bag, her urgent call for “Dr. Rhodes?” not going unnoticed by everyone in the room. For a second Will didn’t understand why she’d brought a blood bag; Jay wasn’t bleeding out, he didn’t need a transfusion, until he realized that it wasn’t a blood bag – it was Jay’s catheter.

And it was filled with blood.

“Damnit,” barked Connor. “There must be a secondary haemorrhage. We need to get him into surgery ASAP. Page upstairs,” he instructed.

There would come a moment in everyone’s life when they’re forced to breathe, take a step back and redefine everything they ever thought was important in life – success, money, family and for Will Halstead it came for him right at that moment.

Because all of sudden the steady beeping of his brother’s heart monitor trailed off into one long uninterrupted noise that sent Will’s own heart straight into his knees.

Because all of a sudden Jay’s heart stopped beating, and he went into cardiac arrest.

** _tbc._ **


	8. The Recovery

It took Connor thirty-five agonising seconds to get Jay’s heart beating again and Will suffered through like each one lasted an entire lifetime.

Between the sight of his co-worker and friend pounding on his brother’s already beaten chest to get his heart beating again – between the image of Jay’s body jerking up off the bed with every shock of the defibrillator and the nurses whose names he all of a sudden couldn’t remember, manually pumping precious oxygen into his lungs trying to bring him back to life; Will could feel his heart plummeting further and further down into his knees.

Will thought Hailey had the best Jay-radar out of all of them – or perhaps, the worst – because she reappeared just as the commotion was reaching fever pitch and doctors and nurses where rushing in and out of Jay’s room like there was a relay race taking place.

Will had been pushed out by someone – a feeling so strange because he’d never been on the other end of the emergency; most of the time he was in the midst of it, working hard to get someone back or to keep them alive. This time there was nothing he could do but watch.

He reached over to circle his arm around Hailey’s shoulder because she looked like all the air had been sucked out of her body. She wasn’t crying, at least not yet. Not when there was no actual reason to be crying because Jay wasn’t going to die – _he couldn’t_. He’d come too far, and he’s survived too much to go out like that.

Will refused to entertain any other possible scenario.

Jay was too strong. He was too stubborn to go down without a fight. Out of the both of them, Jay was the most like their dad, which was why they butted head so often and which was why Will knew that he was going to survive.

Because…

Because he _had to_.

There was no reality in which Will wanted to be in where Jay didn’t exist.

It took Connor thirty-five agonising seconds to get Jay’s heart beating again – but even then, it wasn’t over.

Almost immediately after the line on the heart monitor resumed its steady rhythm, without giving anyone a chance to even breathe a sigh of relief, Jay was hurriedly wheeled out of the ICU and straight up to the OR, while everyone could only resume their anxious vigil.

\--

Another three hours passed. Many a friend and co-worker flittered through the waiting room during those three hours, some of them lingering a while before having to reluctantly rush off, the other staying for an update with the rest of them – eager to find out if Jay was going to be okay.

Will was sure he treaded a path into the floor during those three hours that seemed to crawl by but no one stopped him. No one asked him to relax or to sit down and he was glad. He’d already snapped at someone who tried early on during the wait, his mind was too preoccupied to focus on who it was. He’d only later on be informed that it was Sergeant Platt that he’d snapped at. It was a story that would one day undoubtedly be told to Jay over laughter and beers at Molly’s and Will could only make a bookmark of the hopeful scene and stow it away in his mind.

Until then, the only thing he could focus on was getting through each passing second that continued to bring no news.

It took eleven-thousand, seven hundred and fifteen seconds before Connor finally appeared at the waiting room door with his scrubs covered in blood and looking like a grim reaper straight out the TV show about the two brothers who hunt ghosts. Jay had an affinity for it and he’d gotten Will into it after admittedly very little persuading.

“He gave us a bit of a scare back there, but he’s alright,” Connor said. “Must be something in the Halstead blood,” he continued, “They’ll survive but make everyone else work for it.”

Will understood Connor’s intention on making the situation more light-hearted that it was and at any other time, in any other situation, he’d probably appreciate it more. But right then, after having to watch his brother almost die for the second time in three days, Will just wasn’t in the mood. He wanted to punch a wall or something equally painful to get his mind off the trauma he’d been through in the last seventy-two hours.

Hailey finally broke down and let her tears flow, though this time she stepped away from everyone’s comforting embrace and instead just sank into the plastic chair at the end of the room and buried her face in her knees. Kim took a seat beside her after a while, but made no move to comfort her, which was what she probably wanted and needed. Will was sure the only comfort she wanted was from Jay – to see him alive and to see that he was okay; because that was the only comfort he needed as well.

“He suffered an aneurism of the renal artery – his kidney,” explained Connor. “It’s not an uncommon risk for people who suffered the kind of injures Jay suffered, but one I was hoping to avoid. However the good news is that we caught it relatively early, though it might not seem like it, he was lucky and I have no doubt that he’ll make a complete recovery. It just might take a little bit of time. All we can do now is be patient.”

“Thank you, Connor.” Will stepped up to place a hand on Connor’s shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. “Just… _Thank you_. I don’t know what else to say. You saved Jay’s life. You saved my brother’s life and… and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

Connor smiled and mirrored the act. “There’s nothing to replay, Will. I told you right? We’re like family. And family take care of each other.”

Will could only choke back his emotions. He looked out towards the room and the other familiar faces staring back at him; from the whole Intelligence team, Mrs. Goodwin and Nat who’s come up to offer their support and a few of the fire-fighter’s who’d stopped by after their shift to check in on Jay – Will could feel all the love in the room at that moment and it was almost enough to sooth the ache that had been a constant throb in his chest ever since that terrifying moment he stepped into Baghdad and saw that it was his own brother dying on the gurney only a few feet away from him.

Jay was lucky to have so many people who loved and cared about him and so many people who were rooting for him to get well, even those who were half a world away.

But then again, perhaps lucky wasn’t exactly the best choice of word considering the circumstances.

\--

Jay was in surgery for three hours and in recovery for an additional two. Connor said it was just for precaution and Will could only nod and sit back in the hard plastic seat beside his dad wordlessly. He wasn’t the doctor in that situation, he was just another concerned family member and he was pretty sure he was excelling at the position. But once Jay had been transferred back to the ICU and Will and the rest of the team were allowed to see him, finding him in the now too familiar setting but without the neck brace and without the breathing tube pumping air into his lungs, Will realised that maybe the wait had been worth it.

He had only a see-through mask that fogged up every time he exhaled and the other remaining wires and tubes leading to and from his body, but Will could live with those. At least Jay was breathing on his own, and that fact immediately made him seem less ill than he’d been before he was wheeled up to surgery.

After the incident, Hailey had adamantly refused to leave Jay’s side. She didn’t look particularly relieved even once she got up to the ICU and managed to look at Jay with her own two eyes. She reached over to grasp his hand, took her position at his side and hadn’t let go since.

“Are you sure –”

“Yes, I’m _sure_. I don’t want a coffee or a sandwich _or_ a million dollars,” Hailey snapped at him. “I just want to sit here and be by Jay’s side. Okay?”

Will thought it had been brewing for a while in any case. He just raised his arms in surrender. “Okay,” he said finally. Leaning back against the seat and leaving Hailey to resume her staring at Jay – the same thing she’d been doing for the past couple of hours since they’d been in the room.

For a long while no one spoke.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” he found himself saying. “What happened isn’t on you.”

Will knew he’d touched a sensitive spot because instead of snapping at him for speaking, Hailey’s expression just gave into her emotions and whatever remaining strength she had, everything she’d been trying hard to hold together inside her visibly crumbled. Will didn’t know whether to push the subject to get her to open up or to leave her to her own thoughts, but he was saved from making the decision when she spoke.

“He called me,” she said without tearing her eyes away from Jay’s face; “Jay. He called me. A few of hours before the attack. When I was at Molly’s with the team. He asked me what I was doing and if I wanted to come over.” Her voice had started to shake and tears were starting to trickle down the side of her cheek but she made no move to wipe them away. “He asked me to come over but I didn’t… I didn’t – I should have gone. I should have been there. If I’d gone there this might not have happened. The perp might not have gotten to him – if… if only he had back up. What kind of partner am I? I left my partner alone and he almost died – he-he… he almost died, Will, and I would never have been able to live with myself,” she sobbed. “I should have gone… I should have been there – why didn’t I go? I should have had his back. I should have –”

Will got to his feet, rounded the bed pulled Hailey into hug that she so obviously needed. He comforted her as best he could and rubbed her back as she sobbed into his chest.

Every single word she said felt like a blow right to the solar plexus because it was the same thought, the same ‘what if’ scenario that had been plaguing him since the beginning.

He could barely hold back his own tears at the sound of Hailey crying.

“No…” he managed to choke out. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault. I should have been there. Jay and I made plans but we cancelled last minute because we were both busy. He only asked you to come because I’d bailed on him. _Me_. His own brother. It’s my fault. I was the one who wasn’t there for him. I’m the one who’s never there for him.

“I wasn’t there for him when our mom died. I wasn’t there for him when he came back from war. And I wasn’t there for him when he needed me the most and he almost died as a result.”

By the time he finished, Hailey’s sobs had turned into sniffles and she was the one who was rubbing his back and trying to comfort him.

“It’s not either of yours fault,” came the third voice as Sergeant Voight sauntered into the room, hands in his pocket and expression showing that he’d been there for a while.

He pulled back the seat Will had vacated as he and Hailey stepped out of the embrace to face the man and lowered himself down into it with a groan, leaning back.

“Shit happens to good people,” he said after a beat, pausing to reach over to squeeze Jay’s shoulder, almost like he was letting Jay know he was there. “And Jay is good people. Arguably one of the best people I’ve ever met. What happened was terrible and tragic and frankly, something that shouldn’t have happened in the first place but this is life – and life doesn’t work out the way we want it to most of the time. The only thing we can do is pick ourselves back up, dust ourselves off, get back out there and do the same damn thing the next day. If we stop to linger on the past, we won’t get anywhere; we’ll stay down there in the dust and the dirt and achieve nothing.

“Jay fought back his attacker. He survived because he fought to survive and he continues to fight. The only thing we can do is be strong for him and be strong when the time comes that he himself can’t pretend to be strong anymore and all of us know Jay – he’ll want to pretend until the moment he falls and can’t get back up again. But that’s where we come in. You –” he motioned to Will, “And his partner –” he motioned to Hailey, “And everyone in Intelligence. We need to be here for him now, not back in the past regretting things that didn’t happen and realities that can’t be changed. You hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” both Hailey and Will answered simultaneously.

“Good. Now, both of you get out of here,” he ordered. “Go get me a coffee, a sandwich and a million dollars,” he added completely deadpan, but Will could see the twinkle in his eye – the rarely seen humorous side of Hank Voight. “I’ll stay with Jay. You both go get a shower and brush your teeth before you put the entire floor into a coma.”

Will was about to protest but Hailey grabbed hold of his wrist and dragged him out of the room before he could voice his objection.

“Bosses orders,” said Hailey.

“But he’s not my boss,” said Will petulantly.

Hailey chuckled, which was a nice change from her sadness a few moments ago. “Have you met Voight? He’s _everyone’s_ boss. Some people just accept it sooner than others.”

That fact Will definitely had no doubts about.

Reluctantly, he complied, only because he knew that Jay was the safest he could ever be with Hank Voight watching over him.

Hell, even the grim reaper himself would probably not be brave enough to come for him with Hank Voight keeping watch.

\--

By the time midnight rolled around, Will was convinced that Jay was staying unconscious on purpose. Now that he’d been taken off the critical list and Connor was waiting for him to wake up to assess whether he could be moved out of the ICU, there was no reason for him to continue being unconscious other than petulance and the natural instinct to cause his brother as much anxiety as possible.

Luckily Will had already joined the land of unconsciousness himself by the time midnight came about and didn’t have a chance to continue his gripe.

Hailey was the only awake when Jay’s eyes finally opened.

The oxygen mask had been swapped out for a much less restrictive nasal cannula so finally she could look at Jay’s face again and see with her own two eyes that he really was alive and he really was there.

She’d seen him beaten and bruised before and vice-versa. It came with the territory. They’d grown used to icing each other’s black eyes and bruised rib and bandaging a sprain and helping each other up off the ground after a particularly tough fall or a brutal tackle. They’d seen the worst of each other, whether it was on a physical level or an emotional level and every time they found strength in knowing that the other was there to help them up out of the gutter they were in.

This time though… this time Hailey didn’t have that assurance and that was fear unlike any she’d ever faced before.

She knew Jay was strong. She knew Jay could conquer anything. But at the same time, she also acknowledged that he wasn’t Superman. He wasn’t invincible. He bled and hurt and felt pain like the rest of them and never was the reality more apparent than when she was watching him in the emergency room fighting for his life – watching people fighting to _keep_ him alive.

Right then she realized that even though he acted like nothing could bring him down, at the end of the day, he was just human. He was skin and bone and flesh and blood and like any regular human and he could die just as easily as everyone else.

Their job required them to go towards the bullets, to go in the direction people were running from and if they were lucky, they’d walk away on their own two feet. The ones who weren’t… well, at the end of the day that came with the territory too.

The thing that bothered Hailey the most was the fact that Jay wasn’t running towards the bullets. He wasn’t running into the line of fire. There was no obvious threat; there was no villain on the other side of the door, at least there wasn’t supposed to be.

Jay had just gone home. He’d done the exact same thing as the rest of them – just earlier and probably a lot more sober – so the fact that there was where he almost died just disturbed Hailey to her very core.

And it wasn’t just that. It was the fact that it made her second guess herself. It made her flounder around in the what-ifs in a way she promised she never would; in a way she never allowed herself to, Because the what-if in this scenario haunted her and would undoubtedly continue to haunt her for the rest of her life.

But Jay was alive. He survived what so many others failed to do in an attack that was absolutely unprovoked and completely undeserved. He survived and Hailey would have been doing his strength and his courage such a dishonour to wallow in the outcome that hadn’t come instead of focusing on the reality that was.

Jay was alive and he was going to need her. He was going to need Will and his family and the team and Hailey chose right then to be everything he needed her to be, and if Jay needed her to be strong, then she damn well was going to be the strongest. She always excelled at defying expectations; after all she’d made a career of it.

The moment Jay showed even the slightest sign of waking up, Hailey was already on her feet, leaning over him and stroking his cheek with her thumb. It was display of comfortable intimacy that she never had with any of her previous partners – not even with some of the men she had sexual relations with. And it was because it was _Jay_, what she had with him was… it was special.

“Jay?” she called out softly. “It’s me, it’s Hailey. I’m right here,” she added, continuing to stroke his cheek gently; beckoning without forcing him back to consciousness with the contact. “You’re alright now,” she said. “You’re alright now.” She wasn’t sure whether the reassurance was meant for him or for herself.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, his eyes finally opened. No more than slits at first; lost and confused, his eyes roaming around to room as if attempting to make sense of where he was and what had happened.

Until his gaze fell on Hailey’s face – only then did they finally open fully.

It took every shred of self-control she had not to just melt into a puddle of tears right then.

But Jay was awake and alert (for the most part) and all of a sudden Hailey was struck by how much she missed him; how much she missed talking to him and laughing with him and sharing a joke that no one else understood. She forgot how much of herself she shared with Jay until that moment when he wasn’t there for her to talk to. It was then that she realized just how great her loss had almost been.

Jay’s eyes were on her. His lips parting and closing like he had something say but lacked the ability to voice his words and the sight was absolutely heart breaking.

Hailey had so much she wanted to say in return; so much she wanted to tell him, so much she wanted to let him know and show him.

She wanted to tell him how much she missed him. She wanted him to know that at least – that to lose him would have been an unimaginable loss, one that she may not have ever recovered from. She wanted to explain the depth of her fear, the terror that had gripped her heart and the feeling of absolute helplessness she felt while she had to stand back and watch him almost die over and over again. She wanted him to understand how precious he was to her and how much she loved him in so many different ways and for so many different reasons.

There were so many things she wanted to say… she just didn’t know how to begin.

She could barely power though the moment keeping up the strong façade without crumbling to dust in front of him and undoubtedly causing him concern and guilt.

But all it took was one word – it was barely even a word, just a breathless whisper of her name, more air than sound that finally broke her.

Because when Jay, her strong, beautiful, Jay, mouthed her name, Hailey immediately crumbled from the inside out.

The only thing she managed was a strangled apology that was coated with her feelings of guilt and helplessness; her fear and her grief that caused her knees to almost buckle under the weight of all the emotions that had been wrung out of her the past couple of days. She found herself half collapsing onto Jay, burying her face in the less injured part of his chest and shoulder – her resolve to not appear weak and worry him, to not cause him more stress than he was already under, gone out the window with what remained of her will power.

Her tears were of sadness and anger, and fear and guilt and grief that washed over her like a tidal wave with its intensity, almost choking her.

She cried.

She cried and she sobbed into Jay’s chest until she could feel the dampness of his hospital gown against her cheek but still she couldn’t stop.

Hailey acknowledged how selfish she was being. Jay was the one who almost died. He was the one who was attacked; the one who was injured and in pain and there she was crying at him like a child.

It wasn’t until she felt a warm touch against her back and a hand that was offering comfort though she could sense how painful that simple movement must have been, that she was finally able to get her emotions under control. Her tears lessened until they were just wet sniffles but she didn’t move from her position. Instead she could feel Jay’s chin brush against the top of her head almost like he was tucking her into his embrace, holding her and comforting her despite the fact that it was supposed to be the other way around, especially when he’d barely even had time to process the trauma of what had happened to him.

She was supposed to be the strong one in that moment but there she was being comforted by the person who was supposed to be the one comforted. That she was being reassured even though she was supposed to be the one doing the reassuring; the one telling Jay that everything was going to be okay.

Instead it was Jay who was the one offering comfort, the one offering reassurance. It was Jay, the one who’d almost died twice; the one who’d been in a coma for almost a week; the one who’d been on life support and breathing through a tube up until only a few hours ago – he was being the strong one between the two of them and Hailey felt so ashamed of her weakness she couldn’t bring herself to straighten up and look him in the eye. But she knew she had to. She didn’t want to cause her partner more pain than he was already in so she steeled herself, brushing the tear tracks off her cheeks with her thumb as she carefully straightened up, though without removing her hand that was on Jay’s uninjured shoulder.

His gaze followed her ascent and the worry in them made her feel that much guiltier for how she’d reacted.

“I’m sorry,” she finally managed to properly say, sniffling and reaching up to wipe away the remaining tears with the back of her hand. “I shouldn’t have – I wasn’t – I shouldn’t have reacted that way,” she said quickly.

Jay shook his head slightly, obviously struggling to verbalise whatever it was he was thinking, undoubtedly to absolve Hailey of her feelings of guilt. Unfortunately whatever Jay had wanted to say to her would have to wait because Will began to stir. Although considering the state of Hailey’s emotions and feelings of guilt and Jay’s penchant for taking the blame for other person’s pain, perhaps it was a fortunate turn of event instead.

Hailey took a small step back the moment Will realized that Jay was awake and alert and allowed the brothers to have the reunion that so badly deserved. She hadn’t been there when Jay was first brought in, and she wasn’t there the moment Jay’s condition deteriorated without warning, but Will had been there through it all. He deserved to see his brother awake and coherent and just _alive_.

So Hailey sank back into her seat and did her best to tune out everything else, including the more than intimate moment between Will and Jay taking place so close in front of her.

She didn’t let go of Jay’s hand for even a second for the remainder of the night.

Not when he slipped back into the land unconsciousness.

Not even when she followed him soon after.

**tbc**.


	9. The Return

It was a rough couple of weeks thereafter.

Jay was finally on the path to recovery, unfortunately the path was less of a path and more of a steep climb up a jagged, rocky terrain full of seemingly insurmountable obstacles with monkeys throwing bananas and rocks at every turn.

Jay for his part was being unexpectedly patient, almost to a surprising degree. It was Will who was fraying at the seams on the inside watching Jay having to struggle to do even the simplest task, even just sitting up in bed after having been horizontal for so long.

He didn’t complain, bar the occasional grunt of pain and the grimace that was on perpetual display on his face. It was almost like he was keeping everything – his emotions, his discomfort and pain… everything he was feeling – on the inside, as if not to worry everyone. It was such a typical Jay trait that Will was disappointed at himself that it took him almost two days to realize what was actually happening.

But there was little he could do outside of calling Jay out in front of everyone. Jay didn’t deserve that after everything he’d been through. He deserved patience and strength and support from the people around him and Will was adamant on giving him all three.

But Will still knew that it had to stop at some point.

Barely a week after Jay emerged from the drug induced coma, the subsequent near death and following surgery, Connor wanted him up on his feet and mobile to prevent any secondary (or rather tertiary) complications to arise. A feat that was easier in theory than it was to achieve.

Jay still had the strength of a week old baby and the stamina of a ninety-year old. His left arm was in a sling strapped tight to his chest, which meant that he didn’t even have both arms to hold on for support.

Will was a constant presence at his side through it all and keeping up the façade of being strong was much easier if he pretended he couldn’t feel how much weight and muscle mass Jay had lost as he held him up and helped him take one painful step after another across the short length of the room.

But Jay, being Jay, didn’t make a sound; he didn’t make a fuss. He didn’t complain about being bored. He didn’t whine or whinge about being cooped up in the hospital for so long. It was so out of character of Jay but at the same time so in line with his character that eventually it started to become a very real concern to Will and Hailey and everyone who knew him.

Jay hated being still; being cooped up in one place for too long, which is what made his choice of career all the more strange considering a sniper’s entire repertoire consisted of the ability to be completely still for long periods of time, or at least the control to be able to do so. But at the same time, Jay was a great sniper because he had complete control – over himself, over his emotions and his ability. Just because he hated doing something it didn’t meant he couldn’t do it if he wanted to. As a result, it was always difficult to tell whether Jay was being genuine in situations, or whether he’d put on his sniper persona just so that people wouldn’t worry about him any more than they already were.

The effort Jay was obviously putting into keeping up the façade was unfortunately pointless because Will, Hailey, Sergeant Voight and literally everyone who knew him worried about him anyway.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Will asked for what must have been the thirteenth time that morning. It wasn’t like he could help himself. Jay was looking disconcertingly pale and seemed more exhausted than he arguably should be.

“I’m fine,” said Jay for the thirteenth time that morning, getting progressively more disgruntled with each query.

His mouth was saying fine, but his body language was saying the complete opposite. His hand that was clutching Will’s arm was shaking; he was leaning more and more of his weight onto Will – Will knew that he was literally the only thing keeping Jay from toppling over. Sweat was beading on his forehead from the exertion and Will could see the tension in the way he was clenching his jaw.

“Come on, that’s enough for today,” he said, gently guiding Jay back towards the bed without giving him any chance to argue.

It was testament to how exhausted Jay must have been because he barely put up any resistance much less a fight as Will practically carried him back over to the bed, lowering him down onto the edge of the mattress before helping him to get resettled; lifting his legs up and tucking him back into bed.

Jay kept his eyes averted the entire time. Not paying attention to anything Will was doing, cooperating but barely acknowledging that he was even there in the room with him.

“That okay?” Will asked again. He was intentionally treading water with the question, knowing what mood Jay was in, so he wasn’t expecting an answer that was even remotely truthful.

“I’m fine,” said Jay expectantly, as if his entire vocabulary had been reduced to only those two words.

“Yeah, I got that,” said Will before he could stop himself.

He sighed and rubbed at his face. Jay didn’t seem to notice the bite in his reply and Will didn’t know whether to take it as a positive thing or otherwise.

Jay did the unintentionally petulant, grown-up equivalent of burrowing further into his pillow (and indirectly, away from Will); the entire time his attention was on a spot in the far corner of the room away from Will; his uninjured arm circling protectively around his elbow that was strapped snug to his chest.

“You need anything?” asked Will again, already knowing the answer but unable to help himself but remain cautiously hopeful that Jay would actually give him an answer that didn’t consist of the words _I’m fine _or _no_.

“I’m tired,” said Jay instead, though, the only difference between this answer and his usual _I’m fine_’s was the fact that it did seem halfway truthful and he did look genuinely exhausted.

“Alright,” sighed Will; running a hand through his hand, the other reaching over to grasp Jay on the shoulder. “Get some rest. I’ll be here if you need anything. Alright?”

Jay didn’t answer. Will was unsurprised though still disappointed, but he said nothing when Jay closed his eyes and pretended to fall asleep.

Will stayed until he drifted off to sleep for real and long after that.

\--

Jay was depressed, Will could tell. Or at least, he was getting to a point where he could clinically be labelled as depressed – he was showing all the signs, ticking all the boxes. The problem was, Will knew why he was depressed but at the same time, he _didn’t_ know why was depressed; as confusing that it were. It was a brother instinct, a shitty one at that because it made Will realize how little he actually knew about his own brother.

There were a number of reasons he could think off right off the top of his head – all of them related to the attack, but at the same time, something inside told him that it wasn’t _just_ because of the attack. He knew it wasn’t the pain. Jay could deal with pain, a hell of a lot more than Will could, both of the physical and emotional kind.

The problem was trying to get Jay to open up, whether to him or Hailey or even to the therapist. But like the entire journey had been thus far, it was a feat easier said than done.

Jay wouldn’t talk to the therapists.

He wouldn’t talk to Will.

Hailey would get the same gritted teeth two-syllable reply as Will.

He’d make half an effort to put on a mask though when it was Sergeant Voight or Antonio who stopped by – two people who were in a position of leadership, who gave orders and who had power over whether or not Jay would ever return to active duty. 

Antonio however, forfeited that position in Jay’s book the moment he let his own emotions get the best of him; the moment he showed weakness in front of him by expressing his worries and how he’d felt about the prospect of losing him. He dropped down to the same level as Hailey and Will right then.

Burgess, Atwater and Ruzek could barely elicit a grunt of acknowledgement out of him much less an actual coherent answer.

However, it was with Detective Olinsky that Jay always seemed the most comfortable; the most at peace. Will thought it was because the detective was always the one most at ease, especially around Jay. He was the one who didn’t hover or ask Jay how he was feeling or if he needed anything. He didn’t come in with a checklist to tick off about how Jay was doing, whether he felt better or worse. Hell, he’d barely speak anytime he was around, and he spoke less when it was just himself and Jay. Mainly he’d lounge around reading the newspaper, occasionally piquing up with a question about the day’s crossword or a commentary about the current state of humanity and sometimes even sports. Occasionally Jay would give a grunt of acknowledgement in response – sometime he’d even chuckle.

If Will was hurt by Jay’s ease around the detective instead of him, he tried not to let it show.

Where Will and Hailey always came across concerned, almost to an overbearing stage-mom degree, Detective Olinsky was the parent who tossed the baby in the deep end of the pool and let them sink or swim on their own time. Will chalked it up to the feeling of calm reassurance he exuded.

Maybe at the end of the day, that was what made the difference.

Fortunately, the light at the end of the tunnel turned out to be just around the corner.

The day had begun like any other regular morning.

Jay had just finished physical therapy and was in a shit mood.

Nowadays Will welcomed the shit mood and the mood-swings and the anger, it meant that his brother was still capable of showing emotion other than indifference and apathy.

Hailey had left for work after her regular morning visit (she’d returned to work about a week after Jay woke up from the coma) and he’d just stepped out to have a word with Maggie when the feeling creeped up on him like a tingle at the base of his neck.

He’d turned around just in time to see the tail end of army camo disappearing into Jay’s hospital room.

He didn’t know why, but a sense of relief immediately washed over him at the sight. All of a sudden, he could finally truly believe that Jay was going to be okay.

\--

Mouse couldn’t really concentrate on his surroundings since the video call faded to black and the culmination of all his hard work over the course of the last twenty-four hours was let go into the more than capable hands of his former colleagues. There’s was nothing more he could do for them.

There was nothing more he could do for Jay.

Ultimately, that was what hurt the most… what scared him the most.

His best friend; his _brother_, was half a world away fighting for his life – maybe dying – and he was at the opposite end of it voluntarily fighting a war that wasn’t even his.

So he did the only thing he knew how to do: identify the problem in the equation and solve it. He always excelled at that.

But when it came to people… when it came to feelings and emotions and fear… that was always his weakness. That was where he failed time and time again, because once again there was nothing he could do but sit back with his ass in his hands and watch another of his brothers die.

He had to tell himself that Jay wasn’t going to die, that Jay was too strong to die – too stubborn to die. If he tried hard enough, he could almost even make himself believe the words.

Jay was the strongest person he knew. He was strong even when he was hurt, even when he was being torn up inside by death and loss and the shit life seemed to always deal them. Jay was the strongest between the two of them; it had always been that way.

Mouse was weak. He stumbled and fell more times than he could count and Jay was always there to pick him back up and put him back up on his feet. The fact that he couldn’t be there to return the favour was another regret he knew he’d carry with him to the grave.

But Jay was strong, Mouse believed that and maybe if he believed it hard enough he could will the fact into reality. So he concentrated on his fight, he concentrated on staying alive for Jay. Not for one second did his mind stop thinking about his brother half a world away fighting a battle of his own. Even as the battle raged before him, even as he saw bodies drop dead right at his feet, he knew that this was only one part of a bigger picture; a maze of sorts, that he needed to overcome to get to his objective.

Jay was his objective, and that was his mission.

So walking those final few steps across the linoleum floor, devoid of sand and grime and dried blood accumulated over decades of fighting, felt so foreign.

His uniform was clean, spotless – _pristine_. No tears in the fabric from where a bullet had slammed into his vest or grazed a limb. No stains from where his blood had mixed in with the blood of a Hajji that had come at him with a dagger and intent on causing him harm.

Even the feeling of cleanliness felt so foreign.

But he needed to be clean as he needed to be strong because he was finally going to see Jay. He was finally able to see him with his own two eyes, assess his condition with his own two eyes and make sure that he was still alive and breathing and hug him and make sure that his heart was still beating.

He ignored the stares from onlookers and passer-by’s and hospital staff following his trek with their eyes. His ignored everything and anything that wasn’t an obstacle in his path and he didn’t stop until he got to the receptionist desk and obtained the information he needed.

The walk from the entrance of the hospital to Jay’s assigned room felt longer than the entire journey from Afghanistan to Chicago.

Mouse didn’t know why he felt so nervous. He’d been shot at almost from the moment he touched down in Afghanistan, but nothing he felt over there was even remotely comparable to the knot he could feel twisting up inside his gut.

Jay was there within touching distance. The closer he got the more nervous he became up until the exact moment he stepped into Jay’s room.

Then everything else just seemed to melt away.

\--

Mouse and Jay had always had an easy friendship.

They spoke when something needed to be said.

They didn’t speak when there was nothing to be said.

Often times, silence was the only conversation truly called for.

But this time, the silence was stilted; it was heavy and uncomfortable and Mouse had to physically stop himself from fidgeting.

Jay was… Jay was not himself. That much was obvious.

It was even more apparent than when they both returned from war the final time, suffocated by survivor’s guilt and feelings of worthlessness and shame. But even then, Mouse could look at Jay and understand how he was feeling, even on the worst days.

But this time… this time Mouse looked at Jay and it was like a complete stranger was staring back.

This time Mouse didn’t know how he was feeling, he didn’t know what was wrong with him. He didn’t know how to help him.

He didn’t think he could have felt more impotent that he did out there in the middle of the Afghan desert when he found out that Jay had been hurt. But he did.

He was right there in the room with his brother but he might as well have been half a world away for all the good his presence did.

“You left.”

Those were the first two words Jay spoke without having to be prompted; it was unexpected and took Mouse a moment to realize he’d said anything at all.

He looked up from where he’d been admiring the shine of his own clean boots to look up at Jay, but found his gaze averted; concentrating on something in the far side of the room.

“I did,” he said, letting the pause linger for a moment before he added, “You almost did too… only for someplace I couldn’t have followed.”

Jay kept silent, but his gaze finally found Mouse’s.

“I’m sorry,” said Jay, which was not what Mouse had been expecting. He’d expected at least response like-wise; another accusation even, but then again, an apology for something beyond his control was so like Jay.

“You don’t have to be sorry. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“Maybe not,” said Jay, eyes downcast, looking at his hand picking at the lint on his blanket, “But I was stupid and careless. I let my guard down and look at what happened. I have only myself to blame.”

“I don’t know, I’d place some of the blame on the guy who attacked you and killed a bunch of people for nothing too, but I guess that’s my own inexpert opinion. What do I know?” Mouse knew his words came across harsh, but that was what Jay needed; not to be mollycoddled because he hated that, and he knew that was what everyone else was most likely doing.

They lapsed back into silence, but this time it was slightly less heavy and a little less awkward. Mouse felt he’d come more into himself after that short talk.

\--

“How was the war?”

Mouse felt like he’d dozed off in his seat for what seemed like a split second before Jay spoke. Turned out it was almost an hour later.

Jay was leaning back against the raised mattress, drawing an indistinct pattern into the bed’s side rail with his finger nail, facing away from Mouse.

“Like war,” he answered, “Lots of camel spiders and a shit ton of sand, just like we remember.” He added the last part as light-hearted as he could. “How was Chicago?”

Jay spared Mouse what could possibly have been the first glimmer of a smile he’d put on in weeks. “Pretty much the same… minus the sand,” he said, glancing over at Mouse as he finished.

The subtle joke didn’t pass by unnoticed. Both of them shared a chuckle at the memory of another reality in what seemed like another life.

“Couldn’t ask for anything better than that,” Mouse said.

Silence returned. But this time it was companionable and Mouse felt at ease enough to scoot his chair closer to Jay’s bed, leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs, propping his feet (and clean, waxed boots) up on the foot of Jay’s bed.

Jay followed his movements with his eyes.

When he was done, he spared Jay one of his usual lopsided smirks and reached up to place his hand on Jay’s arm.

“I missed you, man,” he said. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

Jay covered it with his.

“I missed you too,” he replied, his voice soft, the words meant for Mouse’s ears alone. “I’m glad you’ve back safe.”

All the awkwardness and tension that had been hovering in the room evaporated almost immediately from that point on.

\--

“They just want to help you, you know. Why won’t you let them?”

This time, it was Mouse who initiated the conversation. He’d lowered the volume on the TV showing reruns of some talk-show and someone in the audience had just started crying over guy problems or something along those lines. Mouse wasn’t really paying attention. The TV had just been switched on as a distraction.

Jay seemed fully engrossed in whatever was going on on the screen, but at the same time didn’t seem like he was paying attention at all. Mouse could tell that his mind was elsewhere. Jay was always good who keeping up that sort of façade.

He didn’t look at Mouse when he said, “I just hate being a burden.”

It was what Mouse had expected. He realized that he hadn’t lost his touch, that he still did know his brother inside and out. His intuition had just… become a little clogged as a result of the sand.

He let out a small chuckle that caught Jay’s attention. “I feel that,” he acknowledged. “I hated being a burden too. In and out of shelters; in and out of rehab… every single day wondering whether to spend what little cash I had on food or drugs, knowing that at the end of the day drugs was always going to win out. Getting in with the wrong sort and screwing myself over time and time again… that sort of thing.

“But there was this guy you see, who just wouldn’t leave me the hell alone. I hated piling my problems onto his plate and getting him caught in the middle of whatever shit I had going on. I hated being a burden to him. But you know, he didn’t give up. He kept pushing and pushing his way into my life no matter how many times I tried pushing him out. He kept looking out for me and getting me out of trouble – hell he straightened me out and got me a job where I could do the thing I loved – _legally_ – and for the Chicago Police Department of all places, can you imagine that? I didn’t want to be a burden back then either but this guy kept telling me I wasn’t one. And it took a little time and effort, but finally I got to a point where I managed to make myself believe it too.”

“You were never a burden,” said Jay, looking almost hurt by the insinuation.

Mouse gave a sad smile at that. “And neither are you, Jay. You never were a burden to me, to Will or the team, and you never will _be_ a burden. Someday, I hope your stubborn ass will finally come believe it like I did.”

The look on Jay’s face was unreadable at best, but Mouse could read him like toddler’s picture book. Jay knew what he said was the truth, it was just a matter of allowing himself to believe that his best friend, his teammate and brother wasn’t lying to him – would never lie to him. He could see that Jay’s mind could rationally accept what he’d said, what Will and his team and likely been saying for weeks, but it was just his heart – that too stubborn heart that was harder to convince.

Jay had always been the protector type. It didn’t matter whether the person was older or younger, if Jay felt a protective inclination towards that person then he’d throw himself in front of a bullet for them. God knows he’d done that for Mouse in a figurative and literal sense and on more than one occasion.

Mouse owed pretty much everything to Jay – his sanity, his identity and his sense of self – everything he thought he left behind in the sandbox that fateful day Hajjis decided to blow half their platoon to kingdom come. But Jay was the one who kept him sane, the one who made him remember his name on those days it was the one thing he wished he could forget. Jay kept him afloat and then built him back up into a man who could look himself in the mirror and be proud of the reflection he saw staring back. A man that could once again be a member of civilized society.

A man that could once again fight for his country.

It wasn’t that Mouse wasn’t terrified of going back – that he wasn’t devastated at the thought of leaving Jay behind and leaving behind the only anchor he had to his new life.

But at the same time he knew it was time. Jay had helped him enough, picked him up enough times to get to that point where he was strong enough to pick himself up off the ground and even be able to dust himself off.

He wanted to stay. God knows how much he’d wanted to stay, but he knew that unless he put in the effort to change something in his life from that point on, that nothing was ever going to change. He didn’t just want to be the person walking a step behind Jay being protected from bullets and landmines, he wanted to walk side by side with Jay and be right there to protect him just as easily.

It was a tough road getting there, but he realized he’d finally arrived.

Right then, sitting in that room at Jay’s bedside, for the first time in his life, he finally felt worthy of walking side by side with Jay. He didn’t just feel like someone who needed Jay to help him to his feet; this time he knew he was strong enough mentally and physically to be able to return the favour.

This time it was Jay who needed someone to help him up. Jay was the one who needed someone to lean on not just in the literal but also in the physical sense.

And Mouse was proud to be in a position where he knew he was able to extend the help his brother so desperately needed; after everything Jay had done for him.

He was finally strong enough to be strong for someone else and he was damn well going to prove it.

**tbc.**


End file.
